Dark Notes
by authorstune2
Summary: AU – Callie and Arizona, as strangers, slowly weave a life together; but the journey could be darker than either of them imagined.
1. Prologue to Chapter 11

The original Dark Notes remains on my account (which I have no idea of email or password for) at Authors Tune if it is easier to refresh your memory than this bulk upload - which also will have a few errors from copy and paste file.

I'm sorry about that, but it's the only way I could figure out how to do it.

Rating: M - Contains drug use, sex scenes and expletive language.

Title: **Dark Notes**  
Category: TV Shows » Grey's Anatomy  
Author: Authors Tune  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Drama/General  
Published: 07-04-13, Updated: 12-07-13  
Chapters: 12, Words: 43,429

 **Chapter 1: Death and Night and Blood (Prologue)**

 **Dark Notes**

 _by Author's Tune_

 **Title:** Dark Notes

 **Disclaimer:** Could only wish the characters belonged to me, but alas, they do not.

 **Storyline:** AU – Callie and Arizona, as strangers, slowly weave a life together; but the journey could be darker than either of them imagined.

 **Rating:** M – this fic will contain mature themes, concepts and scenes. This may include consensual sex scenes, swear words, violence, drug/alcohol use and misuse.

 **Author's Note:** Each chapter title is the title of a song (of which the title, though not the song, will relate to the chapter). You're welcome to guess the song writer/band/performer (google only cheats yourself!) if you like, but I'll be posting a list at the end of this fic of each one and which version or cover I was referring to.

Oh, and this fic will be pretty long. I can't promise my updates will be super fast, but I'll try really hard to keep them regular.

Thanks to everyone for your ongoing reviews to my previous fics – it's so awesome to still be getting reviews and PMs well after a fic is finished. Hopefully you'll find this interesting too, but I know it won't be everyone's thing. I've struggled to get motivated again and have been working on this storyline for a while, but we'll see how it goes! It's hard to find new ideas sometimes. :-)

Anyway, here's the prologue and first chapter to get things started. Fairly short, but chapters will be longer after this. Thanks.

 **Prologue** **: Death and Night and Blood**

 _ **February 15th, 2015**_

 _The wounded seagull_

 _Compensates its broken wing_

 _And ill formed leg_

 _Yet it remains emaciated_

 _Inferior_

 _And survives on discarded remnants_

 _For that, which no one else needs_

"Coffee Ma'am? Tea?"

"No, thank you." Her voice shakes in time with her hands and she curls her fingers into fists and tucks them under her arms. The plastic chair creaks loudly and scrapes on the floor when she crosses her feet underneath her.

"Water?"

She nods and he offers a small smile, kind despite the authority of his blue-buttoned shirt with the gold emblems. The Seattle Police had been nothing but gentle with her since they had collected her from the hospital.

There was still dried blood under her fingernails; faded crimson stains on her skin.

"Here you go," he murmurs, sliding the glass slowly across the table, leaving a water trail. He looks up when another officer walks in, nodding to her as they both sit opposite, folders on the table. "Are you alright to make your statement now?"

She looks up from her glass, two trembling hands finding their way to wrap around the cheap glaze. Her eyes drift up to the corner, a camera fixed on them; wires disappearing into the ceiling. "I guess."

"This is standard protocol, Ma'am; our forensic team has identified the suspect and there is a warrant out for his arrest. Currently you're the only witness that is able to give a statement, until your friend regains consciousness."

She closes her eyes and swallows. Licking her lips, she whispers, "My partner. She's my partner."

"Oh of course, my apologies. As soon as we're finished I will give you a lift back to the hospital."

"Thank you."

"Have they given you any more information about her prognosis?"

She shrugs, and opens her eyes. "They're not sure; she's not…well."

"Anytime you need to stop, just let us know."

"Sure."

The female officer clears her throat and sits forward, forearms over her folders. "You had closed up the café yesterday afternoon, yes? Can you describe what happened from there?"

She exhales heavily and nods, taking a sip of water before placing it back on the table. "We close early, every two weeks," she explains slowly, "we provide a meal to the homeless. We used to do it at the café, but over the last year it's really grown. There're almost a hundred people now, so we get the meals organised and then take them to the town hall."

"So there was nothing unusual about yesterday?"

"No, nothing at all. I was out front, wiping tables and two men tried to open the doors, but they were locked. We let them in, you know, they were hurt. Kind of limping and blood noses, they looked like they had been beat up. And I don't know what happened, it happened so quickly. There was a group of people outside and across the road, they were running towards us, yelling."

"Can you describe how many people? Gender? Nationality?"

She shrugs, burrowing her forehead into lines of deep crevasses. "I don't know, I'm not sure" she whispers, "sorry. There was a group, maybe five; I think they were all men. Maybe." She cups her mouth, hand wildly shaking.

"Take your time."

"The two that we let in, they grabbed us. One each and held us in front of them, protection I suppose."

"Can you describe those men?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes. "They were both tall, dark hair. They were quite a bit taller than me, over six foot. Easily. Tatts, they had a heap of tattoos, all down their arms. Full sleeves and they were in tee shirts and jeans. Clean though, well dressed."

"Were you aware they were drug dealers when you let them in?"

Snapping her eyes open, her mouth falls open; catching flies. "What?"

"They've been on our radar for some time. Dangerous men."

"I…I had no idea. We would never have…"

"Were they familiar to you? Had you seen them before?"

She shrugs, eye contact drifting up to the wall and scanning the skirting board. "Maybe, in the café before; I don't know, we get so many people through. But yeah, I guess, but not well you know. They weren't customers that I knew by name, the regulars I do. We do."

"And what happened next?"

"Ummm, I'm not sure. I was trying to untangle, get out of his grasp, his arm was around my neck and he was waving his other hand out. I thought it was a gun but maybe it was a knife, I really don't know. I was just focussed on getting away, getting out from between them and I could see…there was blood and I couldn't get to her…I was panicking. Yelling out and then there was a shot, it was so loud. I don't know where it came from, which person but the guy…the grip on me loosened and then he was on the floor, I had to step over him. I had to step over him."

"Can you tell me how many shots you heard?"

She squeezes her eyes shut, scene playing out in her mind. _One; Two; Three._ "Three I think, I think it was three."

They nod and share a glance with each other. "Forensics found three shells."

"Oh, okay. So three, yeah, three then."

"Have some water Ma'am, we'll give you a few minutes." A box of Kleenex slides across the table, white tissues standing upright. She takes one in between her index finger and thumb, an extra one tumbles loose and wafts to the table.

"I'm sorry." She doesn't realise that thick heavy tears are tracking down her cheeks; she can barely feel her body let alone notice the sensation of wetness on her face.

The female officer shakes her head and relaxes back in her chair, unfolding her arms. She smiles gently. "Not at all. I know it's difficult, we just need things to be as fresh as possible, if we wait too long, it all starts to fade."

"I know, I understand. It's just that it all happened so fast and I know I'm not being much help." She sniffs, swiftly drawing another tissue out of the box and pressing it to her eyes. She shakes her head. "I stepped over him and the other guy pushed me, out of the way I guess, he was trying to run and pull us, maybe towards the back of the shop. But I don't know what happened, I was being pulled and pushed. They were all around us, and I could smell cigarettes. I remember thinking that I couldn't breathe because of the smell of smoke. It was only a few seconds and then there was screaming and yelling. So much; fuck."

"Can you remember anything they said?"

Shaking her head strongly, she shrugs, holding her shoulders up towards her ears. "I don't know, I don't know. I can't remember or I didn't notice, I don't know. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The police officers, Detectives, lapse into a polite silence as they quietly watch the trembling form in front of them.

"Run, I think. I remember someone yelling out run right next to my ear, and then there were no hands on me. They were really strong."

"It's really important and I need you to really think; was there anything else that they said? At any time? Names or phrases, something, anything that might help us with our investigations?"

She stills, wiping furiously at her eyes though the tears just form a thin glaze across her cheeks and down to her chin. Slowly, she shakes her head. Just slightly at first before she squeezes her eyes shut and more strongly emphasises. _No._ "There's nothing. I just want to get back."

A heavy sigh lingers in the air and she feels guilt stab at her stomach, nauseating her. She has nothing else to tell them; nothing useful anyway. She has nothing that needs to be said.

"Please."

"I'm going to give you my card and I want you to call at any time. Any time at all, if you remember something. Don't think about whether it's important or not, leave that to me to figure out."

She husks in reply, "Sure."

"Ma'am, if you're worried, we can arrange protection for you and your partner. You don't need to be afraid of these men; we can make sure you're safe."

She swallows the scoff and politely declines the offer, lump thick and heavy in her throat. "I'll call," she placates, "if I think of anything."

"We'll take you back."

She wraps her arms tightly around her abdomen as she stands and waits, following behind with her eyes fixated on the floor. The cardboard business card crumples in her hand as she tightens her grip, she won't need the contact details.

Neither of them will; if they happen to see the light of day again.

 **Chapter 2: Little Talks**

 **Title:** Dark Notes

 **Disclaimer:** Could only wish the characters belonged to me, but alas, they do not.

 **Storyline:** AU – Callie and Arizona, as strangers, slowly weave a life together; but the journey could be darker than either of them imagined.

 **Rating:** M – this fic will contain mature themes, concepts and scenes. This may include consensual sex scenes, swear words, violence, drug/alcohol use and misuse.

 **Author's Note:** Each chapter title is the title of a song (of which the title, though not the song, will relate to the chapter). You're welcome to guess the song writer/band/performer (google only cheats yourself!) if you like, but I'll be posting a list at the end of this fic of each one and which version or cover I was referring to.

 **Part One** **: Little Talks**

 _ **January 30th, 2014**_

 _I see_

 _And I taste_

 _As if you were real_

 _And no where_

 _Shall_

 _My fingers be idle_

 _When I ponder you_

 _Whoever you_

 _May be_

 _A fucking door chime,_ is the first thought that crossed Callie's mind as she entered the recently opened café on the corner of James and Kent. It was the first time she'd been out of her apartment in two weeks and there was a door chime. She almost took a few swift steps backwards but a towering body behind her coughed his irritation.

She could almost feel the spray of sputum on her neck and physically shuddered, making a hasty run for a corner table, right at the back of the narrow café. Dumping two A5 notebooks on the table, she turned back towards the counter, eyes scanning a blackboard on the wall. Fluorescent yellows and pinks detailed a drinks menu, all the usual suspects, coffee denominations of all kinds and some weird combinations of freshly made organic vegetable juices.

Blue eyes peaked out from behind the coffee machine, blond hair slightly obscured by tall columns of disposable coffee containers. A quick assessment that her patron wasn't ready to order and she disappeared again, focussed on trying to clean the steam arm. "Give me a yell when you're ready to order."

Pouting, Callie wandered her gaze to the glass cabinet to the side of the counter; nothing but carbohydrate free salads, pumpkin slices and free range frittatas. Oh, and sweets to cater to every dietary intolerance that didn't exist a century ago. "Lucky I'm not allergic to air, huh," she joked, tugging at the satchel across her chest; the material twisted and stretched and a few more frayed edges tore and untangled. She was convinced it would last at least another year.

"Lucky." The blue eyes locked on hers again and the most tolerable grin absorbed her sarcasm. "Can't interest you in a gluten free spinach and goats' cheese muffin then?" She was deliberately goading, assessing the derelict looking woman with blood shot eyes that seemed intent on standing at her counter without ordering a thing.

"Just a coffee."

"Organic okay with you?"

"What the fuck is this place? Greenpeace?"

"Fuck no." They both laughed, though it quickly fell away and a middle aged woman returned a bottle of water to the fridge and stomped out the door. "Whoops."

"Prude. Well, given I'm desperate for coffee, I would like to order your largest _organic_ latte please, one sugar."

"You sure you don't want Stevia? It's better for you."

Ready to release another round of explosive language, she found a bemused expression emanating from behind the cash register. Pale lips had been drawn into her mouth and two deep dimples creased both cheeks. "Sorry. The regulars are starting to get used to my humour. I'm Arizona by the way, and thanks for trying out my new venture."

"I'll hold judgement until the coffee."

"Giant latte, one sugar, got it. Take a seat and I'll bring it over; sorry, I didn't catch your name, you are?"

Turning, Callie ducked her head to slide the strap of her bag over her head, a long tumble of wavy dark hair falling down her back as an old rubber band pseudo hair tie caught and snapped. Glancing over her shoulder, she shrugged. "Not a regular yet."

"Fair enough," Arizona muttered, filling the portafilter with ground coffee and compressing it. She locked it into the group head and pressed a black button, pouring milk into a stainless steel jug. She liked the sound that the air made, whistling out and into the milk, aerating and heating it. It gave her a sense of accomplishment, as if she knew exactly what the outcome would be if she held it in place. It was predictable; satisfyingly predictable.

Sticking her tongue out, Arizona intently poured the milk into the wide mug, deciding on a simple leaf design rather than anything too ambitious. She was improving, but still, her more complicated latte art was a little sporadic in its success.

She had a photo in her apartment, of a perfect solar system that she had managed to master once, a few weeks before. It had a planet and orbit, a range of stars. She was yet to be able to repeat it though. The photo was on her fridge, held there with two small magnets, probably where she should have images of children or pets, foreign cities perhaps. But she had a cup of coffee.

Mildly ridiculous.

Resting a spoon on the side of the saucer, Arizona placed a sachet of raw sugar on top and served the drink, quietly sliding it on to the table. "Double shot latte, I make it in a mug, I hope that's okay."

Callie leant back, bag discarded to the floor and both notebooks on her lap. The oversized v-neck tee that she wore tugged down over her breasts, slightly see through from years of wear. "Bigger the better, thanks."

"Can I get you anything else?"

Shaking her head, Callie smoothed her hand over the small table. "Nice idea, on the tables. I haven't seen it anywhere else."

"Oh really? I saw it once, and liked it. It was easy to do really, people are always getting rid of old coffee machines so I took them off their hands and just had a piece of wood secured to the top. Pretty easy."

"Creative."

Arizona laughed. "I would like to say it was more unique and difficult, but it really wasn't. Kind of good for these quiet corners though."

"And you advertise stuff here?" Callie asked randomly.

"What do you mean?"

"The posters, art shows and gigs."

Arizona nodded slowly, casting her eyes up and along the walls, covered in various posters promoting local events or tours. She wiped her hands on the black apron she wore, folded and tied at her waist. "Yeah, that's the goal. Just a place for anyone to add to, there're some good bands. Local too."

Scoffing, Callie took a sip of her coffee. "Yeah, I see."

Pausing as if expecting her customer to continue, Arizona stepped away when the simple conversation was abruptly ended. Callie disengaged as if almost disinterested, twirling a pencil in her fingers and simultaneously sipping her coffee.

At least in this line of work, Arizona figured, she didn't have to work with people's craziness; she didn't have to manage it.

She just had to serve it.

A quick scan around the sedate atmosphere, and Arizona slunk back against the dishwasher and drew in a slow breath. She had almost survived her second week in the business and every so gradually, the numbers were crawling in. Morning was the most hectic, which was exactly why she had chosen the space that she did. The café was right on an intersection, and there were two major bus routes with stops almost outside of her door. One headed into the city centre and the other to a cultural precinct, full of restaurants and galleries. So she caught the mass of bleary eyed commuters, each seeking a caffeine hit to get their day started.

Later in the day she seemed to attract a more casual crowd, single patrons that settled in to one of her comfy chairs or single recliners, a novel in their hand or laptop in front of them. The kind of people that sat around for hours and ordered consecutive coffees before losing their resolve and indulging in something sweet.

Someone like the dark haired woman that had insulted her food options before slouching barely moving over a notebook, pen poised and occasionally scribbling. She was on to her second coffee and had even cracked a small smile as she had ordered it, though it had been fleeting.

Sighing, Arizona shook her head and focussed on the few pages of paper in her hand.

She couldn't spend all day thinking about every attractive woman that ordered from her. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind before she opened her doors; it was a fairly pleasant surprise, the number of incredibly hot women that would unabashedly flirt with her. Not that this customer had, she seemed positively disinterested in fact; oblivious probably, to the effortless hotness that emanated from her. Despite the one size too big jeans and not quite matching flip flops that would be more at place on a beach than a Seattle Café. Ironically, she was exactly the kind of patronage Arizona had been aiming for, the unique, non conformist, arty type.

Anything but the arrogant, elitist _fucks_ she had been working for years with, catering to their every whim for the greater goal. God, she had put up with a lot.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Arizona scanned the paperwork; it was the final contract with her coffee supplier. She could still hardly believe that it was her name on the lines, _Arizona Robbins, Proprietor_.

How the hell did that happen?

She still felt the swell of anxiety in her gut when she thought about opening her doors ten days before, and she wasn't sure she had ever been so nervous. For years, she had spoken in front of hundreds of people, done media work and hired and fired like she was breathing air. And not once had she felt nauseously ill.

A year; she could sign a year long commitment to order fair trade, organic, Guatemalan coffee beans from Atlas Coffee.

It really wasn't that long.

Scribbling her signature messily along the bottom line, she tossed it across to land on top of the microwave and scanned the room again. All was still calm.

Sliding the glass display cabinet door open, she used a pair of silver tongs to place a rectangular piece of slice on a plate. Swirling a spread of chocolate sauce over the remainder of the plate, she added two cut strawberries and wiped her hands. She cocked her head and smiled, if only _she_ could see her now.

Before she could give it a second thought, Arizona palmed the plate and slipped out from behind the counter, approaching the woman whom she was attempting not to fantasise about taking into the restroom and devouring. She cleared her throat at the image. "On the house," she said, raising her eyebrows briefly, "because everyone needs to try my gluten free, dairy free and sugar free brownie."

Curling her two index fingers back into her hands, Callie glanced up, mind somewhere between the beat she had been making on the table and the blue eyes that bore into her cloudy bloodshot ones. "Only if it's organic."

Arizona laughed and shrugged.

"Does it really taste good?"

"Of course, would I serve it if it didn't?"

Callie looked perplexed. "I wouldn't have a clue, possibly."

"Well, I'm keen to stay in business and not run people out of here, so I try to have options that actually taste awesome."

"You seem to be getting numbers through the door."

"Yeah," Arizona agreed, glancing at the couple of people remaining before she closed the doors for the day, "it's doing okay considering I only just opened."

"You know," Callie said, taking the proffered plate finally, "it's my birthday today, so thank you."

Arizona's mouth fell open before she shook her head. "Bull shit."

"No, seriously," Callie insisted, "it is. Sad right, that this is probably the extent of any celebrations I will have?"

"Well then, you really deserved that. It's good, honestly." Arizona indicated to the plate, cocking her head as if waiting for the first bite.

Callie indulged, taking a piece with her fork and sweeping it through the chocolate sauce. She chewed quickly, licking her lips. "Hum hmm, definitely birthday material. Thanks, Arizona, but I should pay you for it."

"Oh no, it's on me. All birthday girls deserve chocolate cake."

Callie nodded slowly, relieved that her offer wasn't accepted. She had been counting coins in the bottom of her bag just to afford her coffees. Not quite picking lint off pennies, but not far off. "That probably means I'll end up a regular then, given I live up the road. So, I guess you can call me Callie."

Arizona chuckled lightly and earned a tired look in return. "I can call you that or that's your name?" She perceptively noticed a tinge of pink on Callie's cheeks.

"Ohh, it's my name."

"I'm just teasing."

"You seem to have a habit of doing that, am I an easy target?"

Arizona stepped back, smiling. "Sorry, character flaw. Enjoy your chocolate goodness and I hope your birthday improves."

Expression falling, Callie glanced back to her notebook. "Thanks," she murmured, taking another large bite of brownie and seeming to shrink away from Arizona. Her shoulders curved more and she slumped, tucking her chin down towards her chest.

Ten minutes later, when Arizona looked over from where she had just finished serving a customer, Callie was gone.

Out the back of the café, Arizona had divided the kitchen to create a small space; a single bed, a desk and computer and a few shelves of books, magazines and a music dock. Her timeout space given she was spending most of her waking hours working for the moment. She figured it was design brilliance, a little lockable escape when she had enough competent staff to trust in running the café front. But close enough that she could easily reappear and fix whatever crises they had failed to manage; people were inherently incompetent. Always.

It was, a home away from home; a little something to keep her sane.

And at that moment, sun setting out the small window, she needed a little something. And it came in the way of a wide glass filled with crimson liquid. It was the most delicious Merlot in existence; one that smoothly covered her tongue and slid warmly down her throat. She exhaled, kicking her sensible shoes off and stretching her sock covered feet out along the mattress. She couldn't quite remember wearing flats for so many days in a row, but her toes were certainly grateful. Wearing heels like she was used to would be suicide standing all day, rushing between the register, tables and kitchen.

Rolling her shoulders and hips, she leant back against the pillow, where it was positioned to stretch lengthwise along the wall and took another few hasty mouthfuls of wine.

She closed her eyes and exhaled.

Repeatedly.

Snaking one hand down her sternum, she didn't bother stopping at the metal clasp of her black trousers. Her fingers disappeared beneath the waistband and into her underwear, pants tight against her wrist.

Her middle finger pooled a small gathering of fluid and she spread it along the length of herself.

Within minutes, her breathing was heavy and mouth ajar, eyes lolling at will as she simply worked her way to a rapid climax. Complete with wine glass still gripped in her spare hand and primal grunts, she finished with an ineloquent gasped _fuck_.

 _Yes_ , she figured, the café really was great for masturbation material and Callie, well Callie was the best yet.

 **TBC…**

 **Chapter 3: The First Song**

 **Title:** Dark Notes

 **Disclaimer:** Could only wish the characters belonged to me, but alas, they do not.

 **Storyline:** AU – Callie and Arizona, as strangers, slowly weave a life together; but the journey could be darker than either of them imagined.

 **Rating:** M – this fic will contain mature themes, concepts and scenes. This may include consensual sex scenes, swear words, violence, drug/alcohol use and misuse.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you so much for your reviews and messages, as well the alerts! I'm glad the start of the fic looks a little interesting to you. You're all great, thank you! Hope everyone is having a good week. :-)

 **Part 2:** **The First Song**

 _ **February 5th 2014**_

 _Hey_

 _Fire starter_

 _Be careful_

 _Those flames will burn_

 _Hard_

 _On my skin_

 _And yours_

"For _faaaaarks_ sake," Callie declared, precariously balancing a guitar on one leg, stretched out over the edge of the couch, thigh high over a bundled up throw rug and a hoodie, half on the floor. Her foot reached the coffee table, or what was once the coffee table, now covered with a few stained mugs, piles of unpaid bills and a range of clothing items that desperately needed laundering. Her hand disappeared beneath the sofa cushions, screwing her face up as she discarded furry food items, countless pennies and what may have been the charger for the phone she lost the Christmas before last.

But still, no lighter.

Perched in the middle of her small studio apartment, Callie suspected she had at least twenty small plastic lighters spread throughout her home.

At least.

She had been in the apartment for years, renting it off an old family friend that had disappeared to Florida on retirement, barely heard from again. Not that Callie found that particularly unbelievable, she had done it herself for the most part. Sort of. Some might challenge that, and say that she actually drove people away, too wrapped up in her own world of music, and the unfortunate lifestyle that accompanied it. Particularly since she had been in the business since she was seventeen.

Seemed like she had the world at her feet at that time; promises of wealth and fame that fell flat the moment she discovered the evening gig was best celebrated with a few drinks, some cones and whatever else was going around. She had never been picky back then.

And now she couldn't even find a fucking lighter.

Standing, Callie placed her guitar back in the slim area of space she had been occupying and stepped over the mess on the floor to approach the kitchen. Although she tended to use the term loosely, a mini fridge and a microwave probably didn't really constitute a kitchen in the traditional sense. She had had a convention oven for a while, but it broke, so she threw it out the window, one broken part at a time. The most annoying thing was when she cut her foot on a metal lever from it, when she was taking a pile of empty beer bottles to the recycling area.

She wasn't one for possessions, unless it came to her musical instruments and recording equipment. She didn't have space for a bed in the apartment; where it was designed to fit was filled with a long wide desk that held her keyboard, microphones, laptop, amplifier and the masses of cords that connected it all together. And then there were her series of guitars – bass, a couple of acoustic and a single electric that was worth more than the rest combined.

Occasionally she wished she was more conventional, but then she started writing and recording and reappeared three days later with no idea of what day or hour it was.

That was her zone; she craved that zone.

Oh, and she frequently remembered that people shit her; just a minor issue with being an engaged, participative member of society.

Rummaging through multiple pairs of jeans, hanging over a guitar stand, she eventually felt the familiar sensation of the smooth plastic device against the pads of her fingers. She gripped it in the palm of her hand and gave an awkward grin; no wonder she lived alone.

Slumping back on the sofa, Callie skilfully drew some tobacco out and rolled it into a thin paper, placing the filter in before running her tongue along the edge and smoothing it closed. She flicked the lighter a few times before a flame appeared and she inhaled with a low, long moan of pleasure; one of her many guilty pleasures.

Cigarette between her fingers, she relaxed back again, guitar across her lap and multitasking fingers pressed to the strings as she strummed quietly. She spontaneously created melodies, beautifully simplistic and haunting but as quickly as she started, she stopped. Inhaling to fill her lungs with nicotine; she certainly was focussed these days.

Swaggering slowly into Arizona's café, Callie removed her heavily tinted sunglasses and placed them atop her head. The arms pushed through her hair, tied loosely at the back of her neck. "Hey," she mumbled, finding Arizona behind the register, a ballpoint pen and a fork poking through her hair. "Ahhh," Callie said, glancing around at the clear room, "have you closed?"

"About to, but you're okay, as long as you're happy for me to kind of work around you. What can I get you?"

"Just keen on a coffee, if that's okay. I don't mind if you're closing, it's just I might kill someone if they try and talk to me, I've run out of instant at home."

Arizona swallowed heavily. "Instant? You really drink instant?"

Feeling a swell of judgement, Callie shrugged. "I make do."

"Here, I'll fix that. Ummm, you might need to remind me, latte right? Any sugar?" Arizona remembered all too well Callie's order, a supersized latte with one sugar. She paused behind the coffee machine, half grin on her face as she contemplated the visualisation she had indulged in the afternoon before.

"Just one, thanks. Amusing?"

Snapping her concentration back, Arizona neutralised her expression. "Sorry, just, my mind wanders. Frequently actually, wish I could stop it. You hungry at all? I've got plenty."

Callie shook her head, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. Arizona's café was an exceptional find as too, was Arizona although it was a pity she had sworn off blondes. "Nah, I'm good. Just the coffee."

"Why don't you sit down Callie, I'll just set up around you."

"Set up around me?" Callie asked, uncrossing her arms and shaking her head. "Just put in a to-go cup and I'll bail, really, if you're closed and have stuff to do, you're closed."

Looking mildly stressed suddenly, Arizona turned the steam wand and cast a sideways glance to Callie. "I'm doing this dinner for a group of people tonight, a local charity asked me if I would help out with feeding these people who are homeless."

"Whoa, really?"

"Yeah, I don't mind, at all, it's just the first time. They said there're a few restaurants and cafes around that do it, so it works out that they get three dinners a week and then the vans for breakfast and stuff."

"That's pretty amazing, how many people? Have you got everything sorted?"

Arizona laughed, and Callie's eyes fell to her lips; Arizona had the kind of smile that made anyone near her want to smile as well. Even if they didn't want to, like Callie. Callie didn't smile for hot blondes any more, except for this one suddenly. "She said maybe twenty or twenty five, since it's a new night and they haven't got the word out yet. And I've kind of got stuff sorted, meals really. The salads are done and I've got a pasta sauce on; I just need to keep an eye on the time, make sure I get the chicken in on time and start the pasta and vegetables. And the tables, I just have to rearrange them, and put out cutlery, napkins, that kind of thing."

"Well, given that you gave me that really oddly tasting birthday brownie last week, I could help out; repay you and all." Apparently smiles weren't the only thing this particular blond elicited in her.

"Repay me for a four dollar brownie with a few hours of work?"

Callie shrugged. "And maybe the coffee?" she hinted, winking. "Seems fair."

"It really doesn't, but maybe coffee could be on the house for you here, whenever you come in? Would that work for you?"

Shaking her head, Callie slipped her bag over her head and deposited it on the floor. "It definitely would, but not needed. It's for charity right, I do charity so it's all good. And hey, I even do some bar work up the road sometimes, so I'm not too shabby behind a counter and serving."

"Are you sure?" Arizona asked, handing Callie a mug, not bothering with a saucer and having already mixed in her sugar. "Because it's going to be a few hours."

"I got nowhere to be, just let me scull this and there'll be no chance of me telling you to fuck off when you give me a simple instruction."

"I can probably give as good as I get," Arizona admitted, and she looked slightly more relaxed. Although she had everything she needed and had a schedule planned, the idea of being solely responsible for getting the meals not only out on time, but tasting better than average, had been causing her some anxiety. Enough that she had popped a Xanax under her tongue an hour earlier, though she had barely felt the effects. Having Callie present, another set of hands, was exactly what she needed. "So you live nearby, huh?" Arizona asked, lifting up a tray of cutlery and walking out from behind the counter.

"Yeah, just up the road. Five minutes, if that."

"Nice," Arizona said, nodding, "I'm not far either. Maybe a ten or fifteen minute walk ah, that way," she explained, pointing out the front of the shop and in the opposite direction to where Callie had walked from home. "I like it around here," she continued softly, "it's busy enough to keep me sane but not the city centre. I like being able to get my car out of the basement without risking my life."

"Yeah, it's alright," Callie responded, taking a few full gulps before resting her cup on the counter and helping Arizona reposition some tables. "You want to make one long table?" she asked, to which Arizona nodded, hands under one edge and waiting for patiently for Callie to grip the other side.

"If we line up say, five of these centre ones, that should be enough. Or do you think it would be better to not join 'em?"

"Nah, one long one. I can break up any fisticuffs."

Arizona smirked and laughed, if the idea of aggressive homeless even remotely bothered her, it didn't show. "I think we'll be right."

"Hey, I've walked these streets at night, there's some rough shit out there. A lot of drugged up dicks causing trouble, kids drinking themselves stupid and no where to go home to anyway. All the stuff the government doesn't want to know about." Callie dragged another table closer, edging it to press closely against the adjacent one. Arizona stilled momentarily, and her head just slightly leant to the left; to anyone who got to know her, it was such a classic pondering pose.

Deep in thought and remembering, no matter how brief the moment.

"Yeah," Arizona murmured, "guess you've lived here a while then?"

Shrugging, Callie paused, pushing the last table into place. "A while. You wanna get started in the kitchen and I'll get this set up? Just napkins from over there?"

"Ummm yeah, is that alright?"

Laughing, Callie reached for her coffee and downed the remainder quickly. "I won't take off with your cash register, it's alright."

"Oh I didn't, I really didn't mean that…that didn't even cross my mind," Arizona said, hurrying to correct when she perceived that she had insulted Callie. Only a wide grin met her gaze when she looked up and Arizona breathed a sigh of relief. She was captivated momentarily, by the intensity of Callie's smile. It made her cheekbones swell and her eyes glaze, even her tongue seemed to be excitable, poking out from where they pressed to the inside of her front teeth. Arizona had perhaps incorrectly, assumed her to be some tortured depressive that spent most of her time buried in a notebook.

Not to mention a generally grumpy woman with a distinct hatred of food catering to dietary restrictions or health nuts. Although, understandably, maybe the health nuts did actually shit her.

Arizona had been one of those in the past, strictly following a vegan diet, until her body protested and her blood counts started to resemble an oncology patient. And for a vegan, she really really hated broccoli. Humans shouldn't eat trees.

"Kitchen, Arizona," Callie prompted, and seemed poised to give Arizona a soft push between the shoulder blades before dropping her hand back to sweep over the back of a chair. She took a few steps back and averted her eyes, still smiling though as she took a deep breath. "I'll finish up out here and come help you."

"Thanks," Arizona responded and nodded enthusiastically. "Really, thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't done anything. You've given me coffee and I've moved a table or two. Seriously underperforming right now."

Arizona laughed and slipped around the counter, a sly glance back as she headed back into the kitchen.

With a chequered tea towel over her shoulder, Arizona bantered with the last two remaining guests. She shrugged off their slightly inappropriate sexual comments with good humour, assuring them that although she really appreciated their offer of a three-way, she would have to politely decline. It was important to have clear boundaries, she insisted, and she really wanted to continue providing them with a meal every two weeks.

Callie laughed from the front of the café, holding the door open and gesturing for them to head out. "Come on Bill," she managed to lightly articulate between chuckles, "drag your mate out and head off."

"I'd be happy with a brunette too," he muttered, turning his attention to Callie and swaggering out, the hearty meal having absorbed some of the alcohol he had consumed throughout the day. They were hardly dangerous, and neither Callie nor Arizona felt even remotely threatened, both amused more than anything. The two homeless workers on shift that night had called in a couple of times, dropping off a couple of extra patrons as they completed their usual safety check around the city squats and parks. They had repeatedly assured Callie and Arizona that they had their cell phones attached to them and to call with any issues at all.

Arizona had rolled her eyes and Callie had shooed them away.

"Sorry gentleman," Callie responded, "there were some lovely ladies at dinner, perhaps you can sit next to one of them next time."

"Oh, those bitches? _Fucking drunks,_ I'd catch an itch from their pussies."

Callie stifled a laugh, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to ignore Arizona laughing into her hand behind the front counter. "Careful, you'll hurt my ears with that kind of language," Callie teased and shook their hands as they stilled in front of her.

"Sorry Ma'am," they playfully appeased, disappearing out the door with a wave behind them. They were quickly absorbed by the darkness on the street as Callie closed the front door and flicked a safety lock, Arizona would key lock it before she left.

"Can't believe you turned down their offer," she murmured, grinning as she made her way back, picking up the odd stray napkin from the floor on her way. The tables were wiped down and dishes mostly done, the cleaner would do the floors in the morning before opening.

Arizona shook her head. "They were good value, nice bunch. They were entertaining at the very least."

"Yeah, I was kind of surprised, they were no problems hey? Although did you hear the young guy in the corner have a go at the older guy next to him? It was over something to do with the salt; drug fucked I suppose, short fuses."

Nodding, Arizona screwed up her nose. "It's hard, you can tell some are completely off their face and others are obviously unwell, like, mental health wise. That woman along the back, with the red lipstick and bright pink cheeks, she just talked to herself the whole time. Just a constant conversation."

"Voices in her head, I suppose."

"Sad, really."

"Yeah, sad, but it is what it is. She didn't seem so unhappy with the world."

Arizona offered her fleeting considered pose; Callie was right, the woman looked far happier than she felt. What did that say about her? She shrugged the thought away as quickly as it infiltrated her consciousness. "Wine, I need a drink and to sit, somewhere; anywhere. Come on."

"You have wine here?" Callie asked, eyebrows raised as Arizona indicated for her to follow.

"God yes, soooo yes. You don't seem like the abstinent type?" Arizona half stated and half questioned, loosely aware that it was probably an inappropriate comment but letting it drift out anyway.

"No, no, no. Definitely no."

"Good, then grab those two glasses and we'll sit out back, I need some air."

"Clean air? In Seattle?"

"Oh try New York. And London, Jesus, it's like breathing in exhaust fumes constantly. Seattle is…clean, trust me," Arizona said loudly back to Callie when she disappeared into her office, reappearing a few seconds later with an unopened bottle of red and her leather handbag, a little more upmarket than Callie's desecrate satchel. "You got glasses? Mind you, I'd be happy with a straw."

"A straw, nah, too classy for me. Just swig out of the bottle," Callie murmured, easing herself down onto the back step next to Arizona. She slumped against the door frame. "You must be exhausted, you've been on your feet all day."

"Mmmm," Arizona confirmed, undoing the screw top and tossing it back over her shoulder. She poured two glasses to the rim as Callie held them securely. "Is it bad if I admit to having done that before?"

Callie laughed, eyes closing as she tilted her head back. "Nope, I could admit to much worse." Drinking quickly, Callie rested the glass between her feet and fumbled in her bag, drawing out a packet of tobacco, she held it up to Arizona with a questioning glance. "You mind?"

Arizona shook her head. "But here," she said, reaching into her own bag and lifting her hand out with a packet of Parliaments, "save the hassle."

"You smoke?" Callie questioned, accepting the offer and flicking the packet open. She tugged one from the almost full pack and sat it loosely between her lips. Arizona nodded slowly; her haphazard approach to indulging her stress management strategy wasn't easily identified or articulated. An eclectic mix of prescription and non prescription, tools, she might say. Callie held another cigarette out to Arizona, who took it and mimicked Callie's action.

"There're worse dirty habits," Arizona admitted nonchalantly.

"Certainly is," Callie agreed, flicking Arizona's metal lighter. A full flame appeared immediately and she held it out for Arizona to tip her mouth to and inhale.

"Thanks."

"I probably engage in a few worse ones too, just so you know."

Arizona grinned, running her fingertips down the length of Callie's thigh. She felt the slightest shudder in response. "Me too," she conceded, "just so you know."

Shifting her body, Callie turned to rest her back against the open door frame, kicking her feet along the second step, her calves stretching out over Arizona's shins. She rolled her ankles a couple of times, jean clad legs rubbing loosely over Arizona's high boots. She inhaled deeply, the slightly smooth yet processed smoke feeling different to her usual 'roll your own' cigarettes. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as a range of thoughts rushed through her mind. It was possible, that she had just flirted with the hot café owner.

Entirely possible; highly, even.

"So," Arizona drawled, and Callie focussed her eyes, bemused by Arizona's discomfort with the silence they had just fallen into, "we need to figure out a repayment, for tonight. Coffee or food, or I'm not sure what else, I could pay you, a little. Some at least."

"I thought we had that sorted, I was volunteering. Doing my charity thing, earning points with the universe or something."

"Karma?"

Callie contemplated the thought, but it was a concept that she couldn't even pretend to believe in. As if doing good, equalled a positive return; it was a complete crock. "Nah, just trying to make you feel okay about me helping."

"Come for coffee whenever you like then, I insist."

"And, next fortnight, we do it all again?"

Arizona's head snapped up, cigarette slowly burning between two fingers, where she held her glass to her lips. She sipped at the wine. "You'd do that?"

Callie shrugged and smirked again. "If you can tolerate me."

"As if that's hard," Arizona replied, a little too quickly and she dropped her eyes again to the gravel car park that was only dimly lit by a florescent tube light over the back wall.

Callie lifted her foot and crossed her ankles, blowing rings of smoke that gradually got bigger and faded in front of Arizona. _Why was it always blondes?_

 _ **TBC…**_

 **Chapter 4: Up Against The Wall**

 **AN:** I'm so sorry for how slow I've been – it's been ages between updates. I hope some of you still remember what this storyline is! Thanks for your patience and gentle pushes. :-) Crazy times in my world. And thank you to all who have been reviewing and reading, you're awesome.

 **Chapter Three: Up Against The Wall**

 _ **21st February 2014**_

 _And we're all scarred_

 _Tattooed_

 _By harm_

 _And that_

 _Which has been done_

 _So don't apologise_

 _Darlin'_

 _You're doing_

 _All_

 _You can_

Pausing, with her back to the queue at the café counter, Arizona took a slow deep breath. Eyes closed and fingers tucked into two tight fists, she tapped her ear to each shoulder and cracked her neck before forcing a smile and turning. "How was everything today?" she asked politely, scanning her mind to place which table the young couple had been at. She remembered they were in the corner, thankfully, as he had ran his foot up and down the woman's calf. Tapping the touch screen in front of her, she selected the correct table and asked, "Two coffees, the lasagne, a pumpkin risotto and side of sweet potato fries?"

"That's it, and thanks, everything was really good."

Arizona smiled, though a voice in her head sarcastically ranted, _of course it was, what did you expect, a fucking piece of cold toast?_ "Excellent, and paying together or separately today?"

"Together is fine," he murmured, smiling as he elbowed the slightly blushing girl aside as he handed over his credit card. Processing his card, Arizona indicated to one of her new waitresses and pointed to the people scanning for a vacant table. She had employed four staff a week ago and already she had sent one of them away. She didn't feel she should have to continually remind someone that a vacated table needs to be cleared and wiped and that cutlery dropped on the floor shouldn't be swiped on an apron and put back on the table in full view of the customers. There was no accounting for stupidity. "Just enter your pin," she stated, eyes darting up to two men that had just slipped through the door. She nodded at them and drew in another calming breath as they sat quickly down just inside the front door, not bothered by the two coffee stained mugs that were yet to be cleared.

'Thanks," the customer in front of her stated, taking his card and receipt back and leading the girl out the door. They had to weave around chairs, extras added for the lunch time rush. The café had certainly taken off, so much so that Arizona was starting to feel the pressure. She was tired mainly, long hours and nights out with minimal sleep were doing little for her mental health. The odd Xanax and Restoril were helping her get a few hours each night though.

Tipping her head to the side, she ran an open palm around one of the girls' back, slightly exposed lumber under her fingertips. "Can you sort these customers?" she asked, giving a wink to the men in front of her, wallets open and waiting. "I'm just ducking to the restroom."

Nodding, the baby-faced redhead, arched her back and grinned at Arizona, backside grazing her hip. "Sure," she answered and Arizona chewed on her bottom lip as she walked away, pondering briefly whether her name was Kirsty or Kristy.

It was one of the two, she was sure; she really had to get a little better with details. Speaking of, Callie had been yet to call in that day which she had come to do. Usually it was early afternoon when she strolled in, hair knotted and askew and eyes glazed over. Mostly, some mornings, if she made it in, she seemed clearer and more energetic. Positive even. They had spent some time together, Callie having helped out with the second charity dinner and even helped clear a few tables when Arizona had fired her waitress in full view of the thankfully, chilled out afternoon customers.

Entering the bathroom, Arizona slumped down on the closed toilet lid and gave an exasperated sigh. It had been more than a week since her last artificial stimulant, minus caffeine of course. Reaching into her back pocket, she withdrew a small silver business card case and settled it on her lap. She unfolded one of four aluminium foil packages. As quickly as she cast her eyes over the thin line, it was grazed under her nose and halved, a small metal cylinder tapped to her left nostril.

Neatly returning the supplies to her pocket, she rested back for a few minutes, pupils gradually starting to dilate. Rolling her shoulders, she stood and tipped her chin to the mirror, smoothing the skin over her jaw line and tucking wispy curls behind her ears. Rising up to her tiptoes, she bounced a few times before blowing a long exhalation of warm air. It clouded the mirror and blurred her expression, eliciting a small smile.

Returning to the café floor a minute later and she slipped straight back into her role, directing the girls and single handedly making coffee, steaming milk and retrieving customer change from the cash register. She felt energised and alive, words tumbling from her mouth with a mix of humour and casual conversation. Various customers bantered with her before the lunch rush dissipated.

Arizona grinned. "You girls can go for your break if you like," she prompted, only mildly aware that in their early twenties, _girls_ , was probably a derogatory term. She didn't really care, she could run the place on her own if she had to. Mostly.

"Thanks," they murmured back in unison, and Arizona chuckled lightly. She reached a hand out to run down Kirsty's arm.

"Go, have a half an hour, you've been on your feet for hours. And take some food with you, whatever you like."

"Oh, I would really really love that raspberry muffin."

 _Really really?_ Arizona waved her hands at the cabinet. "Whatever you like."

With the area to herself, Arizona wiped over the benches and dragged a cloth over the glass display. She arranged the napkins into a neat pile and the postcard local events advertisements into perfect lines. Not before she restocked the disposable coffee cups.

She was looking for her next task when a light cough resonated from across the counter and she couldn't help but smile. "Callie," she acknowledged, head tilting to the side. "I was starting to think you weren't coming in today, how are you?"

Nodding, Callie readjusted the bag strap across her sternum. "Yeah, I have to head into town, just thought I'd call in. You good?"

"Yeah, yep. Good," Arizona answered, feeling Callie's stare a little more intensely than usual. She averted her gaze. "I'll get you a coffee."

"Wait," Callie said, forehead burrowing and she took a napkin from the top of the pile Arizona had just straightened. "You're bleeding," she murmured, folding it in half and holding it under Arizona's nose, her open palm to Arizona's cheek, keeping her still. "You get blood noses?"

Arizona stepped quickly back, taking the white paper napkin hurriedly from Callie. It had two small smudges of blood. "Sorry," she offered, pressing it to her nose.

Shrugging, Callie watched carefully. "It's alright, I'm good with a bit of blood."

"Classy," Arizona joked.

Callie shook her head, pushing her hands into the pockets of her faded blue jeans, fraying tears over her thighs. "You feeling alright, Arizona?"

"Yeah absolutely, it's nothing. I get them sometimes, it's never much."

Nodding, Callie chewed at the inside of her cheeks; it was none of her business really. "Mind if I make my own coffee?"

Arizona laughed. "Not at all, but I've got it. You into town for anything important?"

Rolling her eyes, Callie shrugged. "Not at all, just some strings I ordered ages ago have arrived. I was meant to pick them up last week, and now they're threatening to sell them on; they're kind of specialist ones."

"Been writing anything new?"

"Nuh. I wish, I've got the motivation of a gnat."

"Maybe the new strings will help."

Callie engaged another long shrug. "I doubt it, but they can't make me any worse. Hey, you're still bleeding; maybe you should stop for a minute." She hesitated. "Funny how it's only one side."

Arizona's eyes quickly dropped and wiped at her nose again, a smudge of dark red smudging; she folded the square smaller. "Annoying," she offered, embarrassed. A small anxious feeling quelled in her gut and she knew Callie was assessing her correctly. She seldom disclosed the little bits and pieces of her life, the vices that got her through the long days she spent alone. If people knew, then her invincible, infallible façade was suddenly transparent.

And God, how she hated to be transparent.

"So umm, I'll be in tomorrow morning, you're around right?" She sensed Arizona discomfort quickly, reading her with pinpoint accuracy.

"Always," Arizona said, weakly smiling.

"Well, if it's not too chaotic, maybe you can join me for coffee. I figure with the numbers growing, we might need a bit of a plan for the next homeless meal thing."

"You're still in, then?"

"Yeah, definitely. Is it weird how much I love that shit?"

Arizona chuckled, shaking hands topping Callie's cup with milk and fumbling to secure the lid. She hated to show that side of herself. "Nope, I kind of like it too. But you're right, I spoke to one of the guys yesterday actually, and it's going to end up huge."

"Obviously it's needed."

"We can talk menu tomorrow…and venue. Fuck, it can't be here or they'll have to start sharing chairs."

"Can you imagine?" Callie asked with a wide grin, taking the coffee from Arizona and raising her eyebrows in emphasis. "Thanks," she said, meeting Arizona's eyes briefly. Her pupils were so big that they only exposed a thin rim of blue, it was incredibly noticeable to Callie. She had obsessed about those blue eyes since she had first met Arizona. They were stunning.

"See you tomorrow," Arizona said quickly.

Nodding, Callie seemed to hesitate with her hand midair before wrapping it securing around the recycled cardboard cup. "Careful with that," she said softly, nodding towards Arizona's face.

"Ah, it's fine."

Callie smiled and slipped away, tucking in a rogue chair as she left, hips swaying seductively. Not that she knew she was being seductive, it was all completely effortless. All the way down to her faded converse and mismatched socks, which according to her smell test, were mostly clean.

Late in the afternoon, Arizona and Kirsty tidied up the café and prepared to lock up as the last of the customers trickled out. The closing time was always variable, depending on how many people were around and whether it was financially viable to stay open. Technically the sign on the door said _0600 – 1600_ but it was definitely flexible.

Thoughts of Callie plagued Arizona as she silently went about the afternoon ritual and she couldn't quite shake the nervous feeling in her stomach. She hated passionately that Callie had been privy to a part of her life that she had no intention of disclosing. At least, not yet. Not that Callie had specifically said anything, but anyone could have seen the clogs turning in her mind, and the way her eyes scanned over Arizona a little longer than comfortable.

 _Fuck it,_ Arizona cursed internally, shaking her head to chastise herself for being so reckless in exposing her flaws to Callie. Not that she knew why she even cared.

"Excuse me?"

Arizona paused, table wipe under her palm. "Sorry, we're just closing up."

"Oh, that's alright. I just wanted to put a poster up, if you're good with that."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Arizona nodded, casting her eyes over the poster the woman held up in front of her. "Go for it," she added, sweeping a hand towards the wall, "there're pins over there." Another band she had never heard of.

Grinning a wide smile, the woman, thin and tall with a mass of long curly blonde hair falling almost to her hips, walked towards the wall. Her hips protruded slightly through the bohemian knee length dress, black tights barely exposed between the hem line and her suede red boots. "Thanks so much, we're doing a few gigs here, you might like to check us out."

Arizona nodded, thinking briefly that the girl could do with a few pizzas or burgers to fill out her sunken cheeks a little. "I might do that."

"Do you play music here, CDs?"

"Yeah, I guess, just different stuff through the day," Arizona explained, indicating to the speakers in each corner of the ceiling.

"I'll leave our album, feel free to play it and let people know who we are."

Arizona gave a neutral expression but accepted the offer, the first freebie in exchange for advertising she had received. "Sure."

"Great, cheers. Thanks for that."

"Good luck."

Turning the album over in her hands, Arizona screwed her nose up. One female amongst four male band members on the front; not exactly her usual taste in music but she was willing to branch out. She had eclectic tastes, as she usually explained to anyone willing to listen.

"You know they're from Seattle, right?" Kirsty prompted from the doorway, locking the front door and securing the additional bolts at the top and bottom.

"Who? That chick?"

Laughing, Kirsty nodded. "Yep, grew up here, one of the high school's success stories; the one up the road."

"Fair enough." Tossing the disc in a bottom drawer, Arizona folded a few hand towels and hoisted herself to sit on the bench. She waited for Kirsty to turn off some lights and make her way back around. "You have anywhere to be?"

"Now?"

Sighing, Arizona nodded; didn't they know they would be better off not speaking? Whenever women talked it just highlighted their stupidity; they're pretty and attractive to her until they expose their immaturity and, well, daftness.

Smirking, Arizona made a mental note to use the word _daftness_ a little more often.

"It wasn't meant to be a trick question."

"Why? I mean, do you need me to do some extra hours?"

Callie could read her fucking mind and this twenty year old could barely interpret a direct question. A rush of anxiety ran over her again at the mere thought of Callie. "You were telling me earlier about your whole casual…approach, at the moment. I thought you might want to work on that."

Looking perpetually confused, Kirsty stood in front of Arizona, untying her apron and folding it up. "Ummm, you want to tell me how to pick up women?"

 _For crying out loud._

Arizona shook her head and reached a hand out, sliding it swiftly under Kirsty's shirt and around to the centre of her back, pulling her between her legs. Mouth to her ear, Arizona huskily said, "I want to fuck you." A shudder flowed under her fingertips and Kirsty's open hands fell to Arizona's thighs. "Just to be clear."

"Really?" Eyes wide and smile slowly forming, Kirsty looked a mixture of pleased and shocked.

"So, maybe you shouldn't talk."

"I ummm, I well, I really want to fuck, umm, fuck you too."

"Really," Arizona said again, bringing her fingers to unbutton Kirsty's jeans. "Don't talk."

Ten minutes later and Arizona had her silenced waitress hoisted against the restroom wall, fingers deep inside her and tongue rapid against her exposed breasts.

It wasn't the best sex she had ever had; nor was it her worst.

Thank God she had given up counting.

Having restrung her acoustic guitar, Callie awkwardly lay on her couch. She had a pillow under her head, but concealed beneath the pillow was an old sweater and a well worn novel. She strummed the guitar constantly, a slow, low pitched melody; haunting, sad. The back of the guitar was pressed against her stomach and her hand wrapped around the neck and fluidly changed chords with barely a thought.

She played intuitively and without a cognitive direction; the music emanated from inside of her.

An extension of herself.

She closed her eyes and swallowed the emotion that simmered with each passing minute and then hour; feelings reminiscent of the loss she had never quite reconciled. It still hurt; she hurt.

Kicking her feet in protest, items tumbled to the floor; plastic containers and pieces of written music; a pen fell into an old slipper. Her fingers increased their pace, playing an illogical rapid riff; loud and angry.

Her face hardened.

She was no one anymore.

A number of loud, consecutive thumps reverberated against her wall and she could just make out the _shut up_ that followed from her neighbour.

She resisted the urge to hurl abuse back, stilling her fingers instead and reaching to the floor until she felt the familiar touch of the second joint she had rolled earlier. She slid it between her lips and lit it, closing her eyes with a long inhalation.

Callie stayed that way, guitar laid across the coffee table until she was forced to dispel the remnants to an ashtray for fear of burning her fingertips. She slept awkwardly, one foot over the back of the sofa and an arm extended so that her palm rested on the edge of her guitar.

She often wondered how she got various bruises and marks on her body; and then she would find tucked in a hidden crevice of the lounge an exact match. Picks that pressed into her back or hardback notebooks that scratched into her hip; she briefly, on the edge of sleep, considered cleaning her life up.

And just as quickly, she wondered what for.

She was no one; nothing.

Entering her apartment later that evening, Arizona flicked a light and keyed in the code to her security system, disarming the alarm. _071212_ , every time she set it, every time she keyed it in; it was just a little extra reminder as to why she was in Seattle and what her goal was.

As if she would ever forget.

Discarding her keys in a porcelain bowl on the foyer table, she stepped down two steps and into an open room, shoes squeaking slightly on the high gloss tiles spread throughout the apartment. It was incredibly modern in design, sleek lines and minimally furnished, contrasting somewhat to the bold, bright artwork that dominated various walls.

Curling her fingers around the stainless steel handle of her double fridge, Arizona perused the contents briefly. It didn't take long, just numerous bottles of wine, some sparkling water, a few lone pieces of fruit alongside specialty cheeses and marinated olives.

She tucked a bottle of wine under her arm and with a container of balsamic olives, weaved through a corridor until she slumped on a wide leather couch, feet extending along a smooth chaise. Selecting a number of remote controls, she dimmed the lights and adjusted the room temperature before the wide screen television sprung to life.

The bright LED screen seemed to bring another rush of adrenalin to her already wired brain; and she fidgeted constantly for a few minutes before quickly drinking a glass of wine and settling on a channel. Her eyes flickered persistently and her mind raced, though it could barely settle on one thought before jumping to the next; just a constant stream of thoughts without process and lists without ends.

Until she neared the dregs of the bottle.

Then, stretched out on the sofa, with her shoes discarded to the floor, she tucked a fabric cushion under her head and slept.

TBC…

 **Chapter 5: Songs Under A Streetlight**

 **AN:** I'm not at all creative with author's notes – is there a better way to say 'Thank You' as much as I want without sounding like a broken record? The alerts, PMs and reviews are all appreciated (particularly for this completely AU and out of character storyline!), so thank you!

 **Chapter Four: Songs Under A Streetlight**

 _ **February 22nd, 2014**_

 _Careful_

 _There's more_

 _And more again_

 _The unsaid_

 _Is stronger_

 _Than you_

 _Or I_

"Arizona? Hey, Arizona!" Callie raised her voice slightly and manoeuvred past a towering man at the counter of the café, hands impatiently on his hips. Curling her fingers around Arizona's elbow, Callie squeezed her arm and a stressed face turned to greet her, eyes dull and forehead creased. "What's going on? It's freakin' chaotic in here."

Arizona shook her head and fumbled with an empty coffee mug, precariously balancing on a pile of plates, lined with spinach dregs and cutlery. She sighed heavily, giving Callie a relieved glance when she saved the cup from tumbling to the floor. Lowering her voice to a strained whisper, Arizona explained, "My waitress hasn't shown up for work - the little bitch."

"What? You've only just hired them, where the hell did you find these girls?"

"It's not hard is it, to show up for a rostered shift? Fuck."

Callie smiled at the customers who eyed them curiously, the hushed and tense exchange drawing their attention. "I'll take that," she murmured quietly, taking an additional bowl and tapping Arizona with her shoulder to return to the kitchen. "Which one? You should fire her arse, and deduct her pay."

"Yep, read my mind. It was that Kristy girl, the one with the dark hair. I mean, Kirsty – whatever. And if she thinks she's getting any more work she's delusional." Arizona ranted, more than aware that Kirsty's no-show was probably more to do with post work events of the day before than anything else.

"Oh, the skinny one."

Scoffing, Arizona relaxed her shoulders a little. "They're all skinny, Callie," she insisted.

"Sickening."

"So true."

"Really Arizona? With your," Callie paused, waving her hand between them as she dumped the items in the sink, "non existent stomach and _gymmed_ up legs. You don't get to comment."

"Gymmed up?" Arizona questioned, laughing. "I haven't stepped foot in a gym for six months."

"Better than six years," Callie countered with a grin, taking a few steps behind the counter. "We can continue this, after I serve this angry looking guy."

"Can you? That would be amazing."

"Of course, on to it. I'll stick around; help out for a while, would that be useful?"

Arizona eagerly nodded and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. From having Callie help out with their charity dinners, she had found her to be incredibly competent and just easy to work with. She was almost intuitive, knew exactly what needed to be done and when; and, was more than apt at knowing when to shepherd Arizona away from unsuspecting victims when her frustration flared. "Thank you," she said softly, but Callie had already turned away and was working at endearing herself to the impatient customer.

If Callie was planning on making a point of highlighting Arizona's appearance the day before, she was concealing it well. So much so, that Arizona barely gave it another thought as they both worked consistently for the next two hours, until the morning rush dissipated.

When only a few relaxed patrons remained scattered throughout, Arizona and Callie both slumped to a small square table, closest to the entrance to the kitchen. Callie laid two large mugs in front of them. "I feel like I've been on my feet for hours," she muttered lightly.

Checking her watch, Arizona nodded. "You have been. You must be desperate for this coffee."

"Ah, yeah, well, I may have snuck one a little earlier, just to keep me going."

Laughing, Arizona raked a hand through her loosely tied hair, tucking pieces of grown out bangs behind her ears. "Only one?"

"Yeah, restrained, right?"

"Irish coffee would have been better. I can't believe how busy it's gotten, I really haven't been open that long."

"Because it's amazing; you have no idea how long this street has waited for a decent coffee shop to open."

Arizona shyly shrugged. "I'm just surprised. I recall some being a little unimpressed by my menu."

Sheepishly, Callie sipped at her coffee and licked her lips of milk remnants before continuing. "You remember that, huh? I take it all back, organic…gluten, lactose, nut free food tastes incredible. You're a genius."

"It's not all like that!"

"Just causin' trouble," Callie teased. "So we were planning on working on the next meal thing…" she said after a few moments of silence, trailing off as Arizona groaned.

"I think I need a timeout for a few minutes."

"Thank fuck for that, because right now I think serving canned spaghetti on toast is the best idea ever."

"The idea of serving anything makes me want to go all foetal," Arizona admitted, kicking her feet out under the table and grazing Callie's legs. "I'm paying you for today, by the way," she added suddenly, "your timing was impeccable."

Callie was shaking her head before Arizona finished the sentence. "Don't be crazy, I was just helping out."

"Umm, nope. You do way too much helping out, do you get paid for any work you do?"

Callie blushed slightly. "I like it here, I mean, I wouldn't do it at the bar I work at because it's completely feral. No one ogles my tits here," she said, chuckling. Arizona gave a bemused expression in response; she had certainly _ogled_ Callie's breasts, fine that they were. "And I don't frequently get prostitution offers."

Arizona dropped her head, laughing; she swiped a hand out and her fingers trailed briefly over Callie's forearm. "Well, I'm still paying you."

"You pay me enough with coffee, better trade than dollars."

"Callie." Callie glanced up at Arizona's enunciation of her name, all chastising but gentle; with the syllable emphasis just a little different to most. Arizona raised her eyebrows, as if challenging Callie to push the issue.

"Dinner," Callie murmured quickly, before she had time to consider and talk herself out of it. She swallowed. "Take me to dinner instead."

They paused and Arizona's expression became flaccid, lips separating slightly. It was brief but just long enough for Callie to avert her gaze back to the coffee mug she wrapped two hands around.

In a few rapid seconds, she had torn down the momentary sense of self confidence she felt, and the ridiculous idea that Arizona was even remotely in her league.

"Tonight," Arizona said, perceptively squaring her shoulders and straightening her back.

"What?"

Dropping her head to the side, Arizona smiled. "Tonight, let me take you to dinner tonight."

"You don't have to, really; it was just an idea, I didn't mean to pressure you."

"I'm taking you to dinner tonight," Arizona insisted strongly, taking away an opportunity for Callie to back out of the discussion. "I'll finish up here this afternoon and we can have a drink at my place or somewhere before dinner. I'm taking you out, Callie."

Slowly, Callie nodded and as she sipped distractedly at her coffee, a soft glow warmed her cheeks. There was something appealing about the adrenalin rush of putting something, no matter how perceptively small, on the line. Even better when it wasn't battered away. She didn't know Arizona well, at all, but she didn't seem like the kind of person to bother with silly games. She couldn't really imagine Arizona putting time and effort into anything, if she didn't want to; and going out to dinner, making conversation, was something that required interest and effort.

Unconvincingly, she told herself it was only a meal, and nothing more than that. Just a way for Arizona to settle a debt.

Just a way for Arizona to settle a debt.

Of course, Callie realised; Arizona wasn't taking her on a date; she was just making sure she didn't owe this random stranger something more than coffee. She was probably concerned Callie would want to cash in on her favours at some point; and Arizona was too smart for having that kind of shit on her back.

"Callie? You still with us?"

"Mmmm."

"I was just saying that maybe we should frock up a little, nothing too fancy but given I'm not thinking of letting you out of here all day, I at least want to take you somewhere nice. Would that be okay?"

"Ummm," Callie stumbled her way back to reality, cursing the negative spin her mind involuntarily gave to anything positive in her life. "I guess," she internally scanned the contents of her closet, having an inkling that she had some old cocktail dresses in a suitcase somewhere. Which would hopefully fall off of her rather than not do up. "I'm not sure I have too many options, this is pretty much what I wear every day."

"Well, I used to wear my pyjamas when I worked from home, so it looks pretty good from here. But hey, I'm happy for you to wear jeans." Arizona sucked in a quick breath, everything she had always been criticised on was right there in one single sentence. "Sorry, that didn't come out right at all; you don't need my permission to wear anything. I just meant that there's no pressure, I might wear jeans."

Callie laughed and shook her head. "Is it just me or did this conversation get weird?"

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Arizona dropped her hand to the table and relaxed, meeting Callie's eyes. "Fuck," she muttered with a light laugh, and Callie found the piercing blue to be all the more evident after the affected pupils she observed the day before. "I think I just lost my shit. So, tonight, after we close up, we'll do something – drinks, dinner, whatever we want to do; no stress. Plan?"

"Plan."

"I can't describe how keen I am for a wine," Arizona declared, lifting the flap on her leather satchel to secure her keys as her and Callie left through the back of the café. Callie waited for her at the bottom of the steps, hands in the pockets of her loose jeans, flip-flop exposed feet cool in the late afternoon temperature.

"Me too – and white or red, sparkling…wouldn't bother me right now."

"You're right; I really need some more staff."

"Decent staff Arizona, maybe some college students might be better."

Walking around the back of the dimly lit shops, they stepped over gravel until reaching an alley that led them to the street front. Arizona followed Callie, habitually lingering an open palm at the small of her back before dropping her hand away. She knew why things were different with Callie; she recognised her behaviours from years past. It had only happened once, maybe twice if she was being particularly open and honest with herself. She lost a little bit of confidence, or arrogance; and although she was undeniably attracted, she wanted conversation and presence. Her thoughts weren't preoccupied with how good of a lay Callie would be; she was driven to learn more about her and hear her perspective, stories.

Which was not her style; not even remotely.

She couldn't care less for conversation most of the time.

It wasn't that she didn't spend time imagining what it would be like to lay Callie down and explore every inch of her decadent skin, but it was exactly that. She envisaged soft lighting and melodic music; gentle laughter and slow, sensual moans.

And in the morning, she would make Callie coffee and breakfast; because they would both be there - in the morning.

She had fought so hard to forget the feel of someone next to her in bed; the feelings of safety and security that it elicited in her. And she had. She had even become accustomed to it, enjoying the space and tossing and turning as much as she liked. She could wear pyjamas in winter and not have it misconceived as no longer being attracted; just like she could crawl under the covers naked and not have it mean instant sexual gratification. It really was simpler.

Predictable.

Lonely.

She missed having someone to banter with sometimes, to share dinners with and a drink. Someone who she knew the name of and what blend of wine to order for them; it wasn't all mixed up names and slurred dirty talk in bathrooms.

Her plan wasn't to meet someone though and she needed to remind herself of that. This wasn't about her; Seattle wasn't about her. She needed to not forget that, she shouldn't be distracted.

"I know this will sound completely dysfunctional, but do you mind waiting across the road while I go and get changed? My place is really messy, as in, you might sustain an injury if you come inside but the bar I work at is just across the road and they'll serve you a drink and I'll be quick." Callie broke Arizona's tangential self analysis, having silently led Arizona down the street and around a corner. "It's just there," she said.

"Hey you are close," Arizona acknowledged, unfazed by the derelict building they stood in front of.

"Explains why I was so thrilled you had decent coffee."

"It does. So, you want me to wait for you there?"

"I'm sorry, is that okay?"

Arizona shrugged. "Up to you, I'm sure your place is fine though."

Laughing, Callie said, "No, it's not. Trust me. Tell Jake that you're a friend of mine and he's to not let any fuckwits hit on you. And he's not to hit on you."

"Should I phrase it like that?" Arizona asked.

"Yep, just like that. He'll know it came from me then."

"No problems, take your time. It's only a quick walk to mine then."

"Thanks Arizona, I won't be long."

Callie hastily walked into her small apartment block and up the stairs to her door; she had shamefully spent the afternoon trying to figure out how she could avoid Arizona seeing where she lived. It didn't matter what excuse she came up with, because she had to have one. There was no way she was going to invite Arizona in.

As quickly as she could, she applied some eye makeup and a little colour to her cheeks; just enough to make it appropriate for an evening out but nothing like what she used to wear for interviews or photo shoots. Clothing was more problematic, she wasn't keen on a dress and even if she could find them, they probably needed laundering and pressing. Neither of which was an option with the ten minutes she figured she had.

She had a clear style once, when she was performing; always the tomboyish yet uniquely individual one in the band. Where the others tended to be a little more conventional, she would experiment with different shirts with political slogans or controversial images, paired with a variety of jeans and trousers. And she always had a different hat and vest to wear, even jewellery.

Her girlfriend at the time would always comment, whining for her to look more 'normal'. Whatever that meant.

 _You look like a dyke; why do you have to advertise it?_

Callie used to just walk away, occasionally ranting about being able to wear whatever the fuck she wanted and how stereotypes only have power because people who should know better still prescribe to them. It never made sense to her, how someone apparently so comfortable with their sexuality could still be so critical of their own community; of their own minority group.

It all made sense now of course, but it didn't back then.

Arizona didn't seem to care; Callie had seen the way that she interacted with every customer with equal respect. From the homeless they chatted every two weeks with to the business women in their designer suits and three inch heels who ordered their non-fat soy crap.

Sometimes she thought Arizona didn't even notice; which didn't even come close to making sense when Arizona mentioned she had bought her bag in Milan last year or her shoes from Paris - which she articulated after counting out pennies from an odorous teenager and giving him back more change than he paid.

Bizarre.

Boosted with that thought, Callie quickly dressed in a pair of distressed skinny jeans and paired them with a thin v-neck white shirt. It exposed ample cleavage and slipping a necklace over her head, she was pleased to find the long pendant rest just on her sternum before disappearing between her breasts. One of her old performing jackets was still on a hanger, squashed against the wall of her closet and she slipped her arms through. She could secure it at her stomach with two clips and it hung to her hips at the front. Turning to check the mirror, she nodded approvingly at the back, white tee just pocking out over her backside, slightly longer than the back of the curved jacket.

She tapped her fingers; she desperately needed a cigarette. Just something to take the edge off.

She would have one on the way to Arizona's.

Content, Callie pulled on an old pair of grey boots, loose over her calves now but adequate and keeping her usual satchel with her, she headed back to Arizona.

Walking to Arizona's was settling somehow, a reminder that they chatted easily and without awkward silences or rushed speech. And it was the perfect distance to inhale a full cigarette and squish the butt into a sidewalk trash can.

Well, it was relaxing until Arizona made a sudden turn off the path and up the steps to the entrance to her apartment block. So sudden, that Callie took a few more steps before realising Arizona had disappeared from her side.

It was easily the most exclusive new block in the area.

Slipping her hands into her back pockets, Callie followed silently, trying to maintain a composed exterior. Which she managed to maintain until they entered Arizona's apartment, code entered and the polished floors and high ceilings evoked an involuntary gasp.

Arizona peered at her, curiously.

"Sorry," Callie mumbled, "just a ah, nice place."

Shrugging, Arizona half smiled and led Callie in, tossing her keys onto the marble kitchen bench and bag on the floor. She would never usually be so careless, but she could read the discomfort coming from Callie; and she wasn't keen to offend the only person she had invited in to her home since she had arrived in Seattle.

In fact, she wasn't keen to offend Callie at all; quite the opposite really.

"Red or white?" Arizona asked.

"Ummm, wine?"

Laughing, Arizona nodded and ran a hand down Callie's arm. "Yes wine, I don't want to know what you first thought of."

"Whatever you have open is great, thanks."

Arizona rolled her eyes but crouched down to a temperature controlled wine cabinet, built in under the bench. She stood up with a boutique merlot and poured them both a glass. "Okay?"

"Mmmm," Callie nodded her agreement, "beautiful." She licked her full lips, tasting a combination of wine and gloss. "Hey, how was Jake before? He has a bit of a habit of hassling people, thinks he can pick up whoever he wants from behind that bar."

"Yeah, I got that impression. Confident young thing, isn't he?"

"Confident…arrogant. He's pretty good though actually, it's all just an act; he's generally a nice guy. Particularly once he knows you're off his market."

"He seemed intent on doing the big brother thing. Oh, and he told me that your taste in women is horrendous."

Callie gave a considered expression before smiling and nodding. "True, not that he would have used that word."

"Not quite, but I paraphrased."

"I thought my language was bad, but his is fowl."

"Probably a necessary thing doing that job, you would cop some shit wouldn't you?"

"Yep, drunk or drug fucked men are just delightful and the later it gets, the worse they become."

"Tough job."

Callie scoffed lightly, eyes drifting around the expansive room. "It pays the bills."

"More importantly," Arizona rushed to change the subject, "tell me about this crappy taste in women you have."

"Ohhh, that's a conversation for more wine. Go get changed and I'll try not to fall asleep on your sofa."

Holding her hands up in defeat, Arizona chuckled as she walked away. As jovial as Callie was, she was clearly apt at averting conversation topics when she needed to; politely and skilfully, but incredibly effectively.

By the time desert was served, they had lost count of the number of glasses of wine they had consumed and the conversation flowed freely, albeit with the occasionally slurred word and tangential topic. Fork poised over the red velvet brownie they had been sharing for the last hour, Arizona rested her chin on her fist and gave Callie a contemplative look.

"What did I do? Was my bite too big? Do you have some weird food sharing system?" Callie rambled.

As if she barely heard Callie's rushed, light-hearted questions, Arizona asked, "Was it really your birthday? That day you first came in to the café?"

"Yes!" Callie answered, a little louder than she intended before dropping her voice. "It was, I do not lie."

"You looked so sad, shit birthday hey?"

"I fucking hate birthdays," Callie insisted, "bad shit always happens on my birthdays."

"This year too?"

Shaking her head, Callie grinned. "Nuh, this year, you gave me a brownie. Clearly, it doesn't take much to improve on every other year, because this was the best birthday in a long time."

"That is pretty sad."

"Don't tell me you are one of those freaks that like their birthday?"

"Oh God no, I don't celebrate birthdays. Awful things."

Callie laughed loudly and she dropped a hand to fall over Arizona's, resting on the edge of the table. "You're a little bit crazy, you know that?"

"Just a little?"

"You're all this bundle of contradiction; you're rich as all fuck from producing TV stuff but you still opened a café of all things, just for a sea change. A sea change that isn't even a good one, the harbour is not a sea change, Arizona. And," Callie continued, "you do all charity stuff without anyone really knowing but you're…it's not like you're an angel. You're all into cigarettes and whatever else you do; you don't make sense."

Callie exhaled slowly, and the fork which had been wildly flying around in the air with her gesturing hands, stilled. She found blue eyes fixed on her, Arizona looking completely bemused at Callie's summary of the evening's conversation.

She took another long sip of wine to wash down the chocolate crumbs lingering in her mouth. "I'm the complicated one?" she asked rhetorically of Callie. "Can I remind you," she said slowly, fingers curling around Callie's wrist, lingering mid air, "that you are this amazing, accomplished musician who barely writes music, never performs and works in a bar pulling beers instead? How is that any less complex?"

"I could be a really crap musician," Callie countered, teasingly.

"Oh yeah, right, of course. A really crap musician that had a recording contract."

"Shush, we were talking about you."

Arizona laughed, shaking her head as it fell loosely back, waves of blond hair loose over the back of the chair. Finally noticing the empty restaurant, she glanced at her watch and Callie nodded. "I think they're waiting for us," Arizona murmured.

"I'll just use the restroom, you finish that up," Callie pointed loosely to the plate, standing slowly and steadying herself before walking to the bathroom, just off to the side. Her fingertips trailed over the back of empty chairs, silently convincing herself that she was walking perfectly straight and rhythmically, with complete sobriety.

Arizona was just as coordinated when she stood, having hastily waved her credit card at the waiter as soon as Callie disappeared through the sliding glass door. And by the time she returned, Arizona was standing patiently, chatting easily to the staff with both their bags in her hand. "You good to go?" she asked.

"Sure, we'll just split the bill, yeah?"

Arizona was shaking her head before Callie murmured the word, _bill_. "Ah, you worked all day, remember? This was a thank you."

"Ohhhh, that's right. I vaguely recall being on my feet all day," Callie acknowledged, ducking her head and allowing Arizona to place her bag over her head and to straighten the strap over her shoulder. Callie steadied herself, hands loosely on Arizona's hips.

It was a subtle dance, just enough awareness to keep their closeness on the edge of platonic; barely. It continued as they walked out to the street, frequent soft touches on the arm and back, as if it were never enough yet too much at the same time.

"I was going to suggest we go for a nightcap…" Arizona trailed off.

"But then you tried to walk?"

They laughed, and Callie pressed her face briefly into the curve of Arizona's shoulder, fingers wrapped around her forearm. She inhaled; senses overwhelmed with the smell of perfume and pheromones.

"Let me escort you home, Calliope?"

"Cab?"

It only took a few minutes to hail a passing cab and less than fifteen minutes later, Arizona brushed a soft kiss to Callie's cheek as she slid out of the backseat of the car. Asking the driver to wait, Arizona watched her walk up a few steps and down an open corridor, just making out Callie's outline in the darkness.

When she disappeared from view, Arizona gave some brief directions to the driver and they slowly headed down the street.

Squinting against the bright lights, Arizona rubbed at her eyes. Her ears had a familiar buzzing sensation from the abrupt end to blaring music.

Bodies swarmed around her and the woman she had been dancing with slid an open palm over her backside and between her legs, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.

Another woman pressed into her front, fingernails lightly grazing over her breasts.

And the one from the bar, earlier, caught her eye from across the room and held a questioning hand, palm up, in the air.

She could have any woman she wanted; or all of them. She had that impact on people, if she wanted something than they were powerless to her desire.

But tonight; tonight, she wasn't interested.

Tonight, she had dinner with a woman, who didn't fuck her before she knew her name; who on their first date, went home alone.

She peeled the wandering hands from her body and shook her head; hastily fading into the crowd that swarmed towards the exit.

She went home.

 **TBC…**

 **Chapter 6: Ms Unavailability**

 **AN:** Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, messaging, commenting, liking…etc. You're fabulously motivating. :-)

 **Chapter Five: Ms Unavailability**

 _March 4th 2014_

 _Because sometimes_

 _You want to feel more_

 _So you touch_

 _Less_

"…and then, I was made redundant from my insurance job and my wife, well, it's not easy to spend your life with someone who is nothin' like the man you married. I was depressed, on all types of meds, and mixing them all with a bottle of rum a day; I wouldn't have stayed with me neither. But my kids, she took me bloody kids and turned them against me, made me out to be some no hope'n father."

Arizona and Callie both nodded appropriately, offering encouraging soothing murmurs; but the story had been going for at least fifteen minutes. Arizona had gradually draped herself over Callie's shoulder, chin resting on the curve of her upper arm and sporadically swapping which foot she was weight bearing on.

It was late, another successful charity dinner pretty was much completed, and the numbers had spilled out the front door. The next dinner they would do at a space a few streets away; a youth centre that was happy to donate their activity centre for the fortnightly dinner.

It had been Callie that had been tired that evening, although she suspected that Arizona's energy wasn't entirely natural. Her pupils were wide again, deep black sauces that tore away the blue that Callie had become magnetised to. What ever she had taken was wearing off now though, her arm heavy around Callie's neck and breath a little too rapid. Interlacing her fingers with Arizona's, Callie grinned and interrupted the continued storytelling. Each guest seemed to have a more complicated, more traumatic story, it was endless really. People don't become homeless for no reason. "So, are you all planning on sleeping here tonight?" she asked, cheekily.

A cheer spontaneously erupted and Arizona stood up straight, shaking her head with a smile. "Not a chance you lot, Callie and I are exhausted."

"Are you two finally shacking up?"

"Hey! Respect our girls, they don't gotta tell _you_ a thing."

" _Our_ girls?" Callie asked softly, turning her head and speaking into Arizona's ear, her hushed whisper blowing warm air across Arizona's temple.

"Hmmm," Arizona murmured, shrugging her shoulders and dismissing the continuing exchange with a wave of her hand. She walked towards the entrance of the café, playfully clipping one of the men jumping to their defence over the back of the head. She squinted through the glass windows, just making out the outline of someone standing outside the door, arm up against the door frame.

Callie continued to banter with the guests, stacking a pile of plates at one end of the table, where a number of people had already left. Some were less social than others, just quietly eating their meal and offering their soft gratitude before disappearing back into the dark night. Others clearly didn't get along with some of the groups, cliques almost, or they came from across town and chose not to mix. The politics and the unspoken hierarchy was obvious, and each time, Callie and Arizona gained a little more information about how rough sleeping survival actually worked. It was intriguing; shocking.

The conversation stilled somewhat, as Arizona opened the door and took a couple of steps backwards, a tall young man talking quickly down to her. She shook her head a number of times, gesturing and pointing back out the door. Their exchange was quiet but hurried, quick words and forced expressions, jaws tight. Arizona indicated again to the exit and the male straightened, squaring his shoulders and placing his hands on his hips. He looked around, eyes scanning and jumping from one person to the next.

Callie slowly drew her hands back from the table, taking two steps towards Arizona before a number of their guests slowly stood in their places, chairs screeching as they were pushed backwards.

An eerie quietness fell over them; holding, waiting.

Arizona glanced back to Callie, and Callie struggled to read her expression, unsure as to whether to intervene or not.

A loud forced cough emanated next to her.

As Callie exhaled slowly the tension seemed to spontaneously break and the man in front of Arizona slipped quietly back out the door. A chaotic exchange erupted, cutlery scraping as elbows fell back on to the table and chairs were pulled in.

Callie closely watched Arizona close the door and shake her head to no one, her cheeks flushed when she turned back to expectant eyes. She was flooded with questions, numerous people talking over each other, louder and louder in hope of being responded too.

Arizona offered a strained smile, stepping towards Callie and leaning back against the counter, hands on the edge. Her white knuckles betrayed the controlled even breaths she was taking. Callie gave her a questing expression, one eyebrow rising before her eyes narrowed.

Nodding, Arizona mouthed a silent _okay_ before shaking her head at the expectant crowd. "Settle down, you're like dogs on heat."

"Miss Arizona."

"It's alright Tom, no harm done," Arizona instructed the older man they had begun to get to know. He was somewhat the protector; a wealth of information for new, younger street kids and just someone to keep the more aggressive people away. He had an air of authority, huge square shoulders, tattoos over his bald head and down each arm. He also drank each night until he passed out, occasionally in an emergency room from the numerous unwanted effects of ingesting anything and everything with alcohol content. Methylated spirits weren't great for the gastro-intestinal tract.

Tom shook her head wildly. "Nah ah," he insisted, index finger pointing knowingly at Arizona, "I'll send someone better here, not him. Not him."

"Just a misunderstanding, everything is under control."

"Nothin's ever under control with that fuck of a fuck," he spat out and a chorus of agreement came from a few others. "No no no, I'll sort."

"Tom," Arizona said curtly and Callie sucked in her bottom lip, eyes following the exchange without her head moving.

"He's not someone…"

"Enough," Arizona interrupted, and she turned and stepped away, following the length of the counter before walking behind it, picking up a dishcloth and throwing it bundled into the sink.

Callie continued to watch for just a few more seconds, as people thumped Tom on the shoulders and muttered words of encouragement. "Her choice, man," one younger guy murmured before slipping out the door with a few others, avoiding whatever altercation they seemed to envisage resulting.

"How about you take off, Tom," Callie suggested softly, "we're just about done here, let us get on to some cleaning, hey." Callie could sense the barely controlled anger simmering beneath the surface; and she knew exactly what kind of uninhibited violence that could occur from any of their patrons. She worked hard at keeping her voice soft and low, evenly paced. "We're at the youth centre next fortnight, will be good to have a bit more space. We'll need your advice, let us know who all the new folk are. I'm starting to forget names, I think I introduced myself three times to that teenager tonight, Nick was it?"

"She doesn't know what she's dealing with."

Callie shrugged, possibly or possibly not; she had a feeling Arizona wasn't completely blind in whatever had just played out. "Don't underestimate her," she said quietly, patting Tom on the back. She flattened her palm and pressed it between his shoulder blades, old thick suede jacket under her fingers. "But you leave Arizona to me."

"Just tell her I can sort her out, she doesn't need him. No questions alright, no questions but I can look after her."

Callie nodded and tried to genuinely smile, to placate the tenseness emanating. "Will do. Now you're all going to take it easy tonight, right? No causing trouble, ending up in the lock up or in the ER?"

"Always love, always. Now thanks for the meal, we'll get Tom outta ya hair."

Tom shrugged away the attempt, throwing his hands up in the air and leaving with a mutter of expletives under his breath.

"See you next time, Tom!" Callie called after him and Arizona gave a general wave to everyone from behind the counter.

"He'll be right, thanks again."

Slowly, they all filed out, thanking Callie and Arizona as they went. Callie followed them to the door and secured the lock, giving a fleeting look to the small pile of plates on the table and crumbs and spilt pasta remnants that needed cleaning. "My interest level in doing this last lot of dishes is nil, just so you know," Callie said, arching her back and joining her hands behind her head. She stretched her neck. Earning no response from Arizona, looked around, the room suddenly absent of her. "Now I'm talking to myself," she added with a light laugh, tucking in some chairs as she headed to the back of the café.

Callie sighed as she rounded the counter, finding Arizona sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her, sad dull eyes following Callie.

"Wine?" Arizona asked, quickly halting Callie's impending _are you okay_ line of questioning.

"Here?" Callie enquired curiously, after a brief pause, pointing to Arizona's position on the floor.

"Works for me. You?"

"Can't see why not; I'll get a bottle."

"Can you get the gin instead? It's in the freezer."

Callie nodded, who was she to question the use of alcohol as a coping strategy? She had lost count of the nights she had drank herself into oblivion over the years, passing out in the corner of a bar or waking up on some unknown sofa in an unknown suburb. And there were worse ways to do it than with something as classy as gin. Like the unfortunate night in '98, when the band they were opening for introduced them to a drinking game that may or may not have had something to do with standing under a hanging bag of cheap arse shiraz.

She can still recall the horrific burning sensation of vomited red wine, and the fact that she woke with her head in a bucket and body under a flannel bush.

Gin seemed like a much more appropriate option, so Callie returned with a bottle tucked under her arm and a couple of cans of tonic water from the fridge. "I used to make these pretty incredible gin martinis," Arizona said, as Callie lowered herself opposite her and mixed their drinks.

"Yeah?" Callie replied softly, expecting an elaboration.

"Yeah."

"So, with, some sort of mixer or just olives or something?"

"Ummm, passionfruit actually, weird I know. But really good."

"Oh nice." Callie handed Arizona a tumbler, almost equal parts alcohol and soda. "You'll have to make it for me sometime."

Arizona nodded slowly, sipping and resting her head back. She closed her eyes, feeling Callie's inquisitive concern.

"I don't need to know who he is, you know," Callie murmured after a long silence. "I just didn't like how…aggressive he was, I suppose."

Smiling slightly at Callie, Arizona screwed her nose up and averted her gaze. "He was expecting an, an order; so he's alright, generally. Pissed he didn't meet his quota maybe."

Callie stared into her drink for a moment, swallowing a few mouthfuls before responding. "I figured," she admitted, "what are you in to?"

"Oh, nothing really."

"Arizona." It wasn't critical; how could she possibly be critical? It was more Arizona's style of minimising things or brushing over them and Callie was starting to recognise the pattern. Whenever she started to learn something about Arizona that had a little more depth than just simple, observable facts, then Arizona politely steered the conversation away.

Bit like Callie, really.

"It's not a big deal."

"I've noticed, a bit, a few times. Crystal meth?"

Arizona screwed her nose up, smirking as she shook her head. "No, who would know what that's cut with."

Callie assessed a little longer, holding the silence until Arizona conceded a soft laugh. "Broke you," Callie said, kicking her foot out and gently tapping Arizona's thigh.

"Cocaine," she explained softly, "clean, pure stuff. And only occasionally, it's not something I need."

Shrugging, Callie whistled air out of her pursed lips. "Not here to give you shit, Arizona."

"Yeah well, it's not something I advertise. Not something to put on the dating profile."

"You have a _dating_ profile?"

"Noooooo, no, no. Just a saying," Arizona rushed to justify, anxious and embarrassed until she finally forced herself to look at Callie. She was relaxed and smiling warmly at her, as if they had just had a conversation about the whining couple booted off one of those home renovation reality shows rather than Arizona's indulgent drug of choice.

Indulgent; as if it was a real choice.

"You careful with it? That guy that came tonight, he's your supplier?"

Arizona waved the questions away, taking a few full mouthfuls and tipping her head back to rest against the cupboards. "It went well tonight, yeah? So many people though, we just can't fit them all in here."

It was comforting almost to Callie, how she was coming to predict Arizona's way of communicating, of being. She was never rude or obnoxious, just quietly dismissive and there was a sense of anxiety that Callie was picking up on. It hadn't been obvious at first, but now that they were getting to know each other and spending more time together, there was an edginess that Arizona got in her body when she wasn't in complete control.

She wondered just how much Arizona could be pushed before she cracked; and whether she would crumble in tears or throw punches, literally or figuratively. And rapidly she wanted to know, she wanted to know the things about Arizona that she didn't share with the world. And she wanted her to know that it was okay not to be perfect, that Callie wasn't going to judge or criticise her for being human; God knows she had her own flaws.

"Yeah, for sure," Callie agreed, pulling her legs back and crossing them yoga style; it was effort to get them into position. Pondering, she had to admit, she had never actually done yoga, though it always seemed like an appropriate self caring idea. Before she gave up particularly caring about her life. "Being in the music scene for so many years, I've seen a lot; done a lot," she added quietly and Arizona met her eyes curiously. She nodded, just a slight up and down movement, expression encouraging. "It's a crap line to tread, trying not to lose control but needing to have times when you're not sober."

"It's hardly good, but definitely common. I love that people think it's just crazies that use though, it's so naïve and pretty stupid."

"Ha!" Callie exclaimed, topping her glass up and reaching over to do the same to Arizona's. "People still think that?"

"Oh absolutely."

"Is it not a tough life though? Trying to work and do what you do and still use?"

"I thought I remembered you saying you're no angel either? Or was that not you?" Of course it was Callie, Arizona knew that.

Callie grinned, raising her eyebrows cheekily. "I'm definitely no angel, it's okay. Like I said, no judgements here."

"So…."

Laughing, Callie reached to her side and her hand fell on Arizona's leg, she let her palm rest unmoving. "Cannabis is my choice, too much actually. But hey, that's life."

Arizona nodded. "I figured."

"Frustrated musician and all?"

"Something like that," Arizona murmured and dropped her head to the side, ear almost to her own shoulder. Callie's frequently blood shot and glazed eyes had been the giveaway; Arizona's sector had always been too good for something as frivolous as Cannabis which was insane, cheap didn't exactly mean it wasn't harmful.

Or purposeful.

"Arizona?" Callie asked after a moment, fingertips tapping at Arizona's leg.

"Callie?"

"What would you think of having dinner with me, again?"

Arizona paused.

And Callie clicked her tongue, opening her mouth to retract the offer just as Arizona answered.

"I would think that would be awesome."

"Awesome?"

"Yep, awesome."

Sitting next to each other at a high, street front bar, Arizona and Callie sipped their umpteenth glass of wine and chatted freely. Callie gestured constantly, hands flying fluidly through the air whilst Arizona rested her elbow on the table and supported her chin.

They watched the traffic go past, erratic bombs and one spotless, if not unfortunately orange coloured Maserati, as well as countless in between. "Fucking dicks, can't imagine why I'm not straight," Callie commented.

"Because you think that men who drive overpriced sports cars are misogynistic losers?" Arizona amusingly asked.

"Yeah well, there's that and that whole biological drive thing. It's not like I saw a burnt orange Maserati and thought, hey, egos shit me so I better develop a breast fetish."

"Isn't that what some of those conservative religious fanatics teach?"

"Yes!" Callie exclaimed, smacking a hand to her mouth when she spilled some drops of white wine down her chin. "That was what it was like as a teenager in the Catholic Church, my Olds dragged me off to speak to the priest and I was told I was sinning and choosing a one way ticket to Hell. All brimstone and fire and all that; beware the wrath!"

"Oooo, did your parents come around?"

"Yeah, surely did. I think they figured out there were bigger issues in the world; not that I hear from them much now but they're around. They just don't love my lifestyle."

"Lifestyle? What, they don't approve of your music career?"

"More everything that goes with that. They may have paid a detox bill or two over the years."

"I suppose that wouldn't make them thrilled, but that's impressive that they haven't just disappeared from your life."

Callie nodded eagerly. "They're alright my family, could definitely be worse. How about you? You don't talk about anyone much."

"I've just pretty much done my own thing for a long time, they don't play a part. I prefer it that way actually, as dysfunctional as that sounds."

"You put yourself through College without their help?"

"Mmmm," Arizona said, "I worked at the same time, straight out of school. Started just cleaning sets in LA all week and studying around that, and then I fell into jobs, climbing my way up. I say fell in, but it was hard work; I didn't get to be producing multiple shows at twenty-five just lazing around. I could never teach my staff that, work ethic. People just want to be handed stuff on a silver platter and be paid a fortune for it."

"If only," Callie agreed, though she had markedly less drive than Arizona. She hadn't always been that way, but some things were just too hard to come back from; it took time and the reward had to be worth it. And right now, it wasn't to Callie. A life on the road, by herself, wasn't worth it. "There has to be a crapload of drugs around LA though, right? That extortionately paid acting scene?"

Arizona laughed and nodded. "Too many rich kids with way too much money and no boundaries. They're the ones that I hate seeing caught up in that; the media only portrays half of the overdoses and crap that goes on."

"Really?"

"Yeah, honestly, don't even buy those magazines. It's all tip offs and carefully orchestrated drama, all correlating with movie releases or new seasons of shows, anything to raise the profile. Bad press is even better than good press."

"Ohhh, I want to hear more. You must know some great gossip."

"Ah no," Arizona insisted, stretching her arm to rest over the back of Callie's chair and Callie instinctively repositioned to feel her touch against her exposed shoulder blade. "I don't like to focus on my old life; I'm all about coffee beans now."

Following the line of Arizona's arm and up her neck and face, Callie nodded. "So, I've had enough to drink now and I've been wanting to ask you about your whole relationship story." Arizona's lips tugged and she eyed Callie. "You're single right."

"Do you really think I have someone hiding somewhere? That I haven't mentioned?"

"No, I'm just making sure."

"I'm sorry, yes Callie, I'm single. And happily so."

"How long has it been?"

"Been?"

"Oh, not that. I meant, how long has it been since you were in a relationship!" Callie blushed and Arizona looked away, dropping her arm and staring into her glass before tipping it up and swallowing the last few mouthfuls.

"A while," she evasively answered, shrugging the question away. "To be honest, I'm not really the relationship type."

"Ah, relationship versus casual sex…" Callie surmised.

"Age old question."

"Age old? Really?"

"Perhaps; it's an old debate though, are people really designed for monogamous life long partnerships?"

"Fuck, that's a bit deep."

Arizona rolled her eyes before exposing a dimpled smile. "That's what she said…right?"

"Oh touché," Callie said jovially in reply, rubbing Arizona's forearm comfortingly, silently telling her that she wasn't running an interrogation. She passed her almost empty glass to Arizona. "Here, you finish that and I'll get us another."

"Thanks Calliope," Arizona said quietly and Callie wondered if the slight glean in her eyes was from the breeze or if she had actually just elicited a little emotion.

A reaction; a miniscule hint that Arizona wasn't always in control. She had to admit, she liked that idea.

Returning a few minutes later with a bottle and two fresh glasses, Callie slid awkwardly back on to the stool, fumbling to settle the items in front of them. "I've fucking sworn off relationships," she declared, somewhat dramatically.

Arizona glanced over her shoulder towards the bar and back again. "Just in the last five minutes?"

"No, not just in the last five minutes. I just think you're right, we're not meant to be partnered up for life."

"Hey, preaching to the converted Callie."

"I should tell you," Callie started to say, dropping her voice to a barely contained husky whisper and leaning closer into Arizona, hand heavy and high on her thigh. "I would have slept with you after our last date."

Arizona felt a spread of heat up her neck; her attraction to Callie wasn't the issue and her forwardness was tampering with her restraint. "But then it would all get messy," Arizona said softly and Callie thought, with a tinge of regret.

"I can serve coffee and have sex with you."

"At the same time?" Arizona joked, avoidance at its best.

"Funny."

"You remember that girl I had working with me for a couple of weeks, that didn't show back up to work?"

"Yeah, whatever her name was, yep…"

"I know why she didn't show up to work, I ah, I screwed her after closing up, in the bathroom out back. That didn't work out so well."

"Oh," Callie murmured, tearing her hand away and forming a fist in her lap, "I get it. You're into the young, tiny, pretty things. I'm with you, no problem, let's toast that shit. I'll drink to that."

Arizona smiled, somewhat inappropriately she thought, but couldn't help it, given her body's reaction to Callie since the first time they met. "Yeah, that's not quite right," she said firmly, but lightly, running her hand down the inside of Callie's elbow and enclosing her fist. "I'm not sure I could keep the boundaries with you Callie; I want you to feel comfortable coming to the café, still doing the dinners with me. And I want to be able to talk with you and for everything to be easy and okay; for us to go out and have drinks and meals." She sighed. "When I sleep with women, I don't see them again and I actually want to see you again."

"I'm not a kid," Callie said slowly, deliberately, "I know how to be an adult and not make simple things complicated."

"Things always get complicated; it's just the way life works."

"It's your call," Callie said, uncurling her hand and squeezing Arizona's. "Your call."

"Can we do this again, next week? Dinner and drinks, maybe a movie?"

"Yeah Arizona, we can do that."

Arizona smiled and breathed a sigh of relief; how had she come to crave time with Callie? How did that even happen?

She grasped Callie's fingers back.

With a joint poking out the side of her mouth, Callie arched her back, breath heavy and fast. She dropped a leg over the side of the lounge chair, knee resting against the coffee table and a tuning peg on the neck of her guitar pressing against the ligaments.

She pushed her hand inside her shirt, roughly squeezing her nipple between her thumb and index finger. It elicited a throaty moan.

Jeans and underwear gathered around the ankle of one leg, she increased her pace; opening her mouth wide and mumbling a series of expletives. The smouldering smoke dropped to her bare shoulder, marking her skin and extinguishing, before dropping to the floor.

She envisaged blond hair spilling over her thighs and blue eyes looking up at her as she came.

All imagination and no reality.

While Arizona was probably fucking Ms Anonymous; just so she wouldn't have to face her tomorrow.

Which Arizona did.

Up against a graffitied, grouted alleyway.

With a woman who couldn't have cared less when Arizona mumbled _Calliope_ under her breath.

But Arizona did; Arizona cared.

She had to stop.

 **TBC…**

 **Chapter 7: Like Drawing Blood**

 **AN:** Thank you – loving all the reviews and feedback for this fic. Sorry about the delay in update, I'm trying to keep regular posts happening! Thanks. :-)

 **Chapter Six: Like Drawing Blood**

 _March 5th, 2014_

 _Sometimes_

 _Despite our best_

 _Intentions_

 _Our wounds bleed_

 _Right there_

 _In the open_

 _For all_

 _To see_

 _Yet_

 _To be_

 _Understood_

 _Is still_

 _So far_

 _Away_

Disorientated and arms flailing, Callie swung her legs off the edge of the sofa and fumbled to secure her feet to unoccupied ground. The pounding at the door continued, heavy and loud. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, pushing her hair behind her ears and trying to tame the dry, messy strands that were apparently unable to be tamed.

Still dressed in her clothes from the night before, she secured the button of her jeans and repositioned them at her hips. "Alright!" she yelled at the closed door, one hand steadying her gait as she walked around the mess. "What?"

A young man coughed into his closed fist when Callie swung the door open, exhaling heavily. "Mornin'" he drooled, blond curls barely brushed out of his wide green eyes.

"Jesus," Callie said, angrily shaking her head, "you know what time it is? You should know better than bang on the door like a madman at this fucking hour."

"What? Almost midday?"

"What do you want?"

"You owe me? I've already given you time but I'm callin' it in or there's no more. We're not running a charity you know."

Callie scoffed. "You're not running an international ring either, I don't think a couple of hundred is really causing you an issue."

He averted his eyes, pushing his hands in and out of his pockets a few times. "Sort it."

"Yeah, alright, I told you didn't I? I'll give it to you Friday."

"That was last Friday and the Friday before that."

"Relax."

"Just pay it Callie," he insisted simply, not roughly but exasperated almost. "Or the offer still stands, it always does."

Callie snarled, a low growl escaping from deep in her throat. "Fuck you."

He shrugged and stepped inside, pushing Callie's arm away from where it leant against the frame, silently blocking his entrance. She shook her head calmly, forcing her expression to be annoyed rather than panicked. "Seriously?" she asked.

"Just settle it, I'm not picky, whatever you're up for. And then it's all good, I'll restock you."

Callie took in his expression briefly; he was hardly threatening, more opportunistic than anything else. And she had known him since high school, intimately in fact. Her eyes drifted down his chest, body slim and naturally muscular, even though it hadn't ever seen the inside of a gym. "What are you doing Corey?" she asked, hands now on her hips.

He shifted his weight slightly and she could easily make out the outline of his erection, his hand rubbed awkwardly over his jeans. Shrugging, he muttered, "It's nothing we haven't done before."

"Yeah," Callie laughed, irritated, "when we were sixteen. And you've been trying since."

"So?"

"You gotta give up watching porn."

"Mmmm, yeah, well, you never let me watch you so I gotta stick to those fake butchy dykes."

"Buy some new DVDs."

"Internet, you technophobe."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Can you get the fuck out of my house? Stop propositioning yourself or you'll never get your money."

"And you'll never get another supply."

"Yeah, 'cause you're the only one I know that can fix me up. Just get out, I'm starting to get pissed and you don't want to see me pissed. Trust me."

He held his ground momentarily, and Callie exhaled noisily through her nose. She had been putting up with this same scenario for years on end, and she was well and truly over it. Still, he insisted on trying and always with the same outcome. He'd probably run a mile if she ever agreed to it.

"Pay me," he finally muttered, taking a lengthy look at Callie's slightly askew top, cleavage exposed. "I'm not fucking with you now; pay me."

"Fuck off."

She slammed the door heavily the moment he stepped across the threshold and the walls shuddered at the impact.

"Hey Call," Arizona said softly, striding up behind Callie and rubbing at the centre of her back. Glaring eyes met her when Callie spun around and Arizona gave her a surprised look. "What's wrong?"

"You put money in my bag."

"Ooo," Arizona murmured involuntarily, whistling a little at Callie's clear dissatisfaction. "You keep _volunteering_ here, I wanted to pay you. And I knew that you wouldn't accept it."

"I won't accept it."

"Callie," Arizona said slowly, moving to place her open palm to her cheek before dropping it down to platonically hold Callie's arm. "Please, let me at least occasionally pay you for the work you do here. Or let me employ you or something."

"I don't want your money," Callie countered, a little irrationally annoyed. Already angered by her interaction with Corey, she had been more than surprised to find a wad of fifties in her bag just as she was about to head out for coffee at Arizona's café.

"Hey," Arizona said softly, lightly leading her back behind the counter and away from the view of a few quiet customers, "it's okay, please don't be insulted. I didn't mean to upset you, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it so much and I really want you to keep helping out." Arizona paused, watching Callie soften only slightly in front of her. "Honestly, I really don't want to have to fire you because you won't accept payment." She grinned expectantly at Callie, who only scowled in response. "Come on, it isn't meant to be a drama. Let me make you a coffee, or you can indulge in my wine collection."

"You can't just put money in my bag."

"I can't?"

"No! Arizona, you can't just go around putting money in peoples' bags."

"I wanted to."

"It's a lot of cash."

"I just wanted to pay you, for all the time you help out, but I really didn't want to upset you."

Finally, Callie relaxed her shoulders, sighing heavily and hunching. "I'm in the worst fucking mood," she admitted. Despite an encouraging silence, she failed to elaborate.

"You're not going to say my name in that parental tone again?"

Callie raked a hand through her hair.

"You want to talk?" Arizona asked.

"Nuh," Callie muttered, short and sharp.

"Okay," Arizona accepted, dipping her head to try and meet Callie's eyes but they were fixed on the floor. "Anything I can do?"

"Nuh."

"How about you go hang out the back, and I'll come out soon…with coffee." Just the bare hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Callie's mouth and she nodded, Arizona tightening the grip on her arm as she went to turn. She tugged Callie in to a brief hug, and felt a shudder against her chest. Teary eyes blinked hastily as she stepped back. "Go on."

Quickly serving a customer, Arizona prepared Callie's coffee, contemplative with the care that she was feeling for Callie. The initial anger had taken her aback, such a stark contrast to Callie's usual calm and somewhat withdrawn demeanour. Intense wasn't a word that she would have used to describe her, but the range of emotions she had seen in just a couple of minutes from Callie, pushed at her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.

It would have been so easy to bed Callie, the night before; to accept her promises of casual and her indiscriminative advances. She could have so easily taken her home, led her into her apartment and tossed clothing items from one side of her apartment to the other.

So easily.

But then would Callie have shown up today, with her kaleidoscope of emotions? She may not have settled in to a long and complicated explanation or elaborated with more than a couple of single words and grunted syllables, but she had shown up.

And Arizona wants to know why. Not why she showed up, buy why tears filled her eyes with just the smallest of embraces; and why she was so insulted about a few hundred dollars for hours and hours of work. And why she was in the _worst fucking mood_.

Arizona wanted to listen and talk, to understand and make her feel even a tiny bit better.

She wanted to be Callie's friend; and she wanted to sleep with her. Not just once, but over and over.

Not that she was sure about what that meant.

And not for the first time, she wondered how that had possibly happened and why she wasn't completely overwhelmed by her feelings. Nothing about Callie and the way she was infiltrating Arizona's thoughts and emotions was making sense. But she couldn't deny the fact that she was actually okay with that.

Weird.

Blinking a couple of times, Arizona raised her head at the sound of her name being repeated, frothed milk held stationary in her right hand. "Can I fix this up?" the male asked, buttoned shirt tucked into his jeans, a wide belt exposed.

Arizona swallowed. "Just a minute," she said, finishing filling the disposable coffee cup for Callie. "I'll just take this out and I'll be back, you got my text?" she asked quietly, voice low and attention focussed on securing the lid.

"Yes, got it here."

"Okay," Arizona softly replied, quickly walking out the back and placing the cup down next to Callie. She wordlessly squeezed her shoulder before returning. "How was lunch?" she asked, finding him unmoved.

"Great, he said your food was good, but I'm impressed."

"You're not who he usually sends, where's B?"

"Had to go out of town for a while." Arizona nonchalantly nodded, tapping at buttons on the register. "Hey, Corey says your friend has a payment due."

Arizona glanced to her side, out towards the back where Callie was sitting silently on the step. She slowly drew her gaze back and looked towards the young guy still sitting at the table. "Yeah?"

"Small, but he's starting to get new jobs and wants to stay on the good side. I'm sure you know that's important, for your…friend."

Arizona bit at her tongue, accepting two bills and slipping a small envelope into her pocket, concealed between the notes. "How much?"

"You sorting?"

"As long as no one tells her, yeah; but open a mouth and there'll be issues."

He held his hands up. "I never get in the middle of that drama."

Arizona handed him some loose change and reached below the counter for a styrofoam container; she placed a blueberry muffin to one side and a rubber banded wad of notes on the other. "How much?" she asked again, reaching for an raw chocolate ball and slowly adding it in; to a casual observer, this customer was simply ordering a few extra items to go.

"Three."

Arizona raised her eyebrows. "Thousand?"

He scoffed. "Hundred; you've been living on Moet for too long, love."

"And he's worried about that? Tell him he'll never make it," she responded, smiling as she lifted the change compartment and added a few extra bills. "Mouth shut, remember. Make sure the kid knows."

"Thanks, though you should know he has a thing for her; but I'll see what I can do," he said, taking the container as he nodded and tipped it nose to the join. "Raspberry is my favourite," he murmured and Arizona rolled her eyes; her usual played a long a little more convincingly. And he at least kept track of what she placed. "One week?"

Arizona shook her head. "Nah, go three. I'm on a diet."

"The girl got you going soft?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"See you."

Arizona nodded and checked her watch, still an hour or two until she would close but the afternoon was quiet. Really quiet actually; and with only one customer reading a novel in the corner, she would much rather close early and sit out back with Callie. Tapping her fingers, she scanned the clean benches and tidied shelves; less than ten seconds later she was gently tapping the customer on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, I'm just going to shut up a little early today."

"Oh of course, sorry," the middle aged woman blushed and took off her glasses, shutting her book and fumbling for her handbag.

"No no, take your time. Finish your chapter, there's no rush."

"No, I'll get going. I probably should have left an hour ago, but I'm so enthralled. Let me just find my purse."

Arizona shook her head and again, gently swatted her shoulder. "Please, it's on me. For kicking you out early, I appreciate it."

She earned a wide grin in response. "You've made my day young lady."

It had to be at least ten years since Arizona had been called _young,_ she laughed softly. "If only everyone was so easily pleased, thank you, again."

Arizona made sure the café was locked up and secured before she headed out back, everything in place as she would at the end of the day. Sitting herself down next to Callie, she leant back, and rummaged in her tight pocket. She held the small package in her open palm in front of Callie, who just raised her eyebrows. "New order, you want any?"

Hesitating only a moment, Callie shook her head. "No, thanks. I have to work tonight."

"At the bar?"

"Yeah. But you go ahead."

Shaking her head, Arizona stuffed it back in her pocket and made a mental note to put it away later. She probably shouldn't be walking around with a couple of grams of cocaine in her jeans. "How was the coffee?"

"Excellent, as always."

"You're too polite."

Callie flicked at her nails; it made an annoyingly distinct clicking sound. "Sorry I cracked it with you," she eventually murmured.

Arizona laughed lightly, turning her body to rest against the door frame, one foot tucked under her and the other resting two steps down. "Is that you _cracking_ it? If so, I better not ever fire up in front of you."

Weakly smiling, Callie rested back on her hands, cracking her neck. She was in an odd mood, irritated and frustrated, over it. Premenstrual like; and wanting nothing more than to tug her knees up and curl into Arizona's chest. "I admit, I'm a shit fighter."

"Everything's a bit shit today, right?"

"You trying to get me to talk?"

Arizona shrugged. "It's working well," she observed sarcastically, gentle but mocking.

"Sorry."

Resisting the desire to rant at Callie for continuing to apologise, Arizona settled on a patient silence; perhaps Callie needed another strategy when she was stressed. Arizona didn't tend to need space or silence; she just exploded and then moved on. Or she was meticulously strategic with lengthy plans and perfectly executed revenge tactics – if she was particularly screwed over.

So they sat; quietly.

A bird occasionally chirped, starting a chain of calls in the distance.

A stray cat darted across the car park, shifting stones and disappearing into the dark shade under stationary cars.

Laughter resonated from the Mexican restaurant a few doors down.

A domestic dispute brought a series of expletives on a wave of wind, from an apartment building a block behind them.

Still, Callie remained quiet, expression tense.

"You're killing me with quietness, Callie," Arizona said gently, having given her best shot at remaining hushed. "Let me help; what can I do? What can I do right now?"

Preoccupied now, with the thought of conforming into Arizona's body and being quietly held for even a few short minutes, Callie shrugged. She wanted the kind of no questions asked affection that she hadn't had in a while. She wanted to be hugged.

"More coffee? A massage? Need me to do an Irish jig?"

And finally a smile from Callie; an authentic smile. "You'd dance?"

Arizona nodded. "And trust me, that'd cheer anyone up. Except Michael Flatley…and come to think of it, any of the cast of Riverdance. They might cry."

Laughing finally, Callie shook her head. "There is something, maybe?"

"Name it."

"Feel like calling into the bar tonight? I'll hook you up with a stream of drinks if you keep me sane."

"Oh easy. Yeah, a huge struggle for me to come to a bar; of course I can."

"I would be grateful."

Arizona waved the comment away; she wasn't fazed in the least. "It'll save me drinking alone, so you're doing me a favour. So what can I do that will help keep you sane, though? Anything specific?"

Callie shook her head. "Make me laugh."

"Done. And if my verbal humour fails, I promise I'll dance for you."

"I really would like to see that, you know."

"All in good time. Are you sure you're okay?"

Shrugging, Callie slowly sighed. "I'm just grumpy really, a run in with a dickhead this morning and I just know tonight is going to be worse. My old band is in town, I'm just hoping they don't come to the bar after their gig, it was kind of our hangout years ago."

"Ohhhh, sorry. That is shit."

"I'm sure I'll survive."

"I'll make sure of it."

The unexpected benefit of the night for Callie, was that she was cold sober and Arizona became progressively inebriated as the evening progressed. Thanks to the constant refill of her wine glass; still, it was actually entertaining Callie. And, it was almost at the time where it was unlikely her old band mates would arrive and see her spectacular demise into working class, bargirl.

She was starting to relax and had earned some invaluable knowledge about Arizona.

Like, she had learned that Arizona had a thing for breasts and expensive lingerie; that she had once overdosed at a premiere and ended up in hospital for three days; and that she apparently had a real thing for threesomes.

 _Or more_ , Arizona had not so discretely whispered.

Asking Arizona to come to the bar had definitely had the desired outcome.

"I might have to cut you off soon," Callie teased, overfilling Arizona's glass and disposing of the empty bottle under the bar.

"But I'm your cheer squad tonight."

"And I'm your body guard, can't have you getting yourself into trouble."

Arizona gave a sheepish look. "I usually cause the trouble," she admitted.

As if on cue, they were interrupted suddenly by a stumbling woman, half falling against the bar and into Arizona. She held a wavering fist against Arizona cheek, who shoved her away, annoyed. "Get off me," she muttered, turning back to Callie who was indicating to their security staff, checking identification at the entrance.

"You _fucking slut_ ," she spat out at Arizona, mascara bleeding under her lower eyelids. "You revolting, _fucking cunt_ of a woman."

"Hey!" Callie intercepted now, keeping one hand on the girl's shirt that she just managed to grab a fistful of, and pulling her back from Arizona. A hand flew out and just caught the edge of Arizona's jaw and she looked away. "I will have you charged with assault," Callie threatened, protectively.

She continued to throw her hands out, just missing Arizona from lack of coordination and Callie persistent but awkward grip.

"You're going to be escorted off the premises," Callie said strongly, not the first time in her time working there that she had made the same promise. Not the first time by a long shot; but the first time she had felt the rush of adrenalin at seeing someone she cared about endangered.

"Yeah fuck off. I hope you check your gutters before you close up; see how many _fucks_ she's left lying around out there"

Arizona's expression neutralised in front of them, eyes fixed on the SKYY range; she closed her eyes in a prolonged blink.

"Settle down."

"There's a special place in hell for you," the woman bellowed roughly towards Arizona's dissociative form.

Rushed heavy feet forced their way through the crowd then, two towering security guards easily removing the woman from Callie's grasp and escorting her swiftly off the premises.

Callie rushed around, thumb grazing Arizona's jawline. "You okay? I'll get you some ice."

"No, no, I'm fine. It's fine."

Intoxicated enough to add the letter _d_ to the end of _fine_.

"Downside of casual, huh?" Callie rhetorically asked and Arizona stood. "Hey, you're not going anywhere."

"I'm just going to go, Callie, I'm sorry. I know I said I would stay."

"No, you're not," Callie stated strongly, and there was no room for arguing. "Another forty five and I'll take you home; you're not walking out of here without me."

"I'm fine."

 _Fiiiiind._

"Yep, but you're still not stepping foot outside that door without me."

"I was meant to be here for you, not causing this kind of shit."

"It's okay, that's not exactly unusual for our clientele. I'm all good, everything's okay."

"Mmmm."

"Alright? You're waiting for me to finish, okay?"

"You were sad today," Arizona said suddenly, pulling Callie in to a tight embrace. "I like that you can be sad with me."

Arizona body was warm and heavy against Callie's, and Callie hesitated, shocked by the sudden and unexpected change in Arizona. She was more prepared for her to make a run for the exit. Slowly, Callie wrapped her arms around Arizona's shoulders.

She held her strongly back.

 **TBC…**

 **Chapter 8: Let Her Go**

 **AN:** Hi! I'm so sorry, I know it's been forever between updates and thank you so much for the gentle (you really have been gentle!) encouragement and reminders that have been sent. It is motivating – it's particularly hard to get back into the swing of things after being unable to have time to write for a while. So thank you.

On another note, I hope you still have some idea what this fic is on about – it has been a while! All the same ratings and warnings exist – not even remotely in character, completely AU storyline and warnings for swearing, drug use and consensual sexual content. That should cover it. :-) Thanks again.

 **Chapter Seven: Let Her Go**

 _March 6th 2014_

 _Might it be_

 _Conceivable_

 _That your song_

 _Has yet_

 _To be sung_

"How's the hangover?" Callie asked quietly, slinking behind the café counter and leaning heavily against the basin edge.

Arizona grinned as she turned, unable to keep the smile from falling as she swept her gaze from Callie's face and down her neck. A frayed and stretched scarf was wrapped twice around her neck, red marks and scratches exposed at the edges. "Callie," Arizona murmured, hand involuntarily reaching out between them.

It was swatted away. "It's nothing."

"Are you okay?" Arizona asked, hardly hearing Callie's rushed dismissal.

"It's just…" Callie muttered with a shrug, "nothing really. But I was wondering if I could ask you something."

Nodding quickly, Arizona's expression was urgent, as if intolerant of the nonchalant avoidant strategy Callie was going with.

"So I realise that I went all crazy yesterday about the money thing, but I was kind of hoping there might be a chance I could have a few hours work here. As in, actual work?"

"Have I not been trying to pay you?" Arizona asked and Callie gave her a pitiful expression, desperate for her irrational behaviour to be forgotten. She hated asking for favours or help, and even more, she hated being in a position where she couldn't take care of things herself. And right now, she had to admit that she wasn't _handling_ things. "Of course, really. Are you not getting enough hours at the bar?"

Callie exhaled. "Not really, not right now."

"And nothing with your music?"

"Look if you don't want me to, just say so, okay? I can't really take this shit right now."

Arizona softened a little, leaning back opposite Callie. Any hope of meeting her eyes and reading the unsaid was lost though, dark orbs fixated on the ground. Her instinct to fight wasn't always the best strategy, to assert her authority and take control; there were so many times that she wished her instinct was to nurture and not fiercely protect with fists figuratively raised. "I know what they do Callie," Arizona said softly, and when she actually concentrated on it, her voice could hold a soothing, almost lyrical feel to it, "when they think they have issues with payment." Not that it made exceptional sense to Arizona, the extra money she gave the day before should have been more than enough to cover Callie's debt. She could only assume it either hadn't reached the young newbie or someone was out to prove a point. The business so infrequently made sense.

"It really was nothing," Callie insisted again, "and I know you're just trying to…whatever, but it's fine. I just need to do a few extra hours this week and it'll all be fine."

"They do more than hassle, you and I both know that…" Arizona suggested gently and Callie swallowed.

"It was just a threat; a message." Callie conceded, sweeping her eyes across the room before loosening the scarf at her neck. Clear red finger marks exposed themselves and a few scratches; her neck would bruise nicely before healing.

"They didn't hurt you?" Arizona asked and Callie shook her head. "You sure?" she repeated.

Voice husky from contained emotion, Callie replied with a simple, "Yeah."

"Okay," Arizona continued after a heavy silence, squeezing Callie's wrist briefly. "Will you stay for a while? I'll make you coffee and something for lunch."

Shrugging, Callie said hesitantly, "I shouldn't."

"Please? Just chill out in the corner, I promise I won't lecture you."

Finally, Arizona earned a hint of a smile. For Callie, there was something that felt comfortable about being around Arizona; she didn't feel like she had to be so independent and capable. It was hard to comprehend though, how someone's mere presence could make her heart race with anticipation yet slow with calmness and safety. "I have to admit, I'm not that keen on going home."

Arizona nodded. "Then good, you can hang out with me for the rest of the afternoon. And, I have the best gluten free lasagne for you to try. Oh, and you like pumpkin, right? I just got this roast pumpkin and baby spinach salad in."

Smirking, Callie slowly gave an innocent, ambivalent expression. She would probably prefer a bowl of fries and ketchup but there wasn't a chance she was getting that. And the sweet potato oven baked thick cut British 'chips' that Arizona had on the menu were just not going to cut it. Maybe she would give her a brownie.

"Go sit," Arizona continued, again reaching out to touch Callie; the more she felt the warmth of her skin, the more she craved it. And it was successfully hiding the intense anger that Arizona had pulsing inside of her. How dare they not accept her settling Callie's debt.

She knew the young guys were just out to make a name for themselves, climb up the ladder and in many ways they were more dangerous than the men she ordered from. The older guys had a system, rules so to speak and they generally played by them.

Generally.

 _Generally_ , was the reason she was even there; running a café and not a television show. _Generally_ , was the reason she wasn't going to let anyone mess with Callie.

Taking a few slow breaths, she meticulously went about heating up a large slice of lasagne and placing a generous helping of salad on the side of the plate. She focussed on controlling the clenching sensation in her gut, using the sound of frothing milk to quieten the tirade that was running around her head. It worked; somewhat.

By the time she placed the items in front of Callie, her dark hair was splayed over her face where she scribbled anxiously in a notebook; lyrics sporadically rushing from her fingertips. Amazing what fifteen minutes can achieve, finding that mysterious zone that only an artist understands.

Arizona respectfully retreated, earning just a nod and a long blink before she disappeared out the back of the café. She pulled her phone from her jeans pocket and anxiously paced, phrasing and rephrasing a number of text messages before finally sending it. She kept one eye on the storefront, returning a few times to take payments and to make one cappuccino to go. Until she finally received the response she was seeking.

 _Consider it done; your girl is off limits._

Sinking against the wall, Arizona dropped her chin to her chest and slid down gradually. Her eyes welled with relief as she took in consecutive deep breaths and cupped her mouth, using her right hand to type a brief reply. _Thanks, double me up as a token of my gratitude._

She hadn't intended on inviting herself into a situation where she felt compelled to protect; to care so much that her reason for being in that town, was compromised. But she was there all the same, and she knew from past experience that she was ultimately powerless to stop it. Whether Callie was a purely platonic friend, or had the potential to be something more, it didn't really matter now. They were connected, by those invisible ties.

The ones that elicited thoughts and care, touch and affection.

The ones that provoked Arizona's shoulders to square and fists to clench in the air.

The ties that made her risk the very thing that gave her focus each day; that kept her grounded and on task. Only it wasn't the only thing anymore; Callie, completely unknowingly, was competing for her energy.

And Arizona was giving it to her.

By the time Arizona sat down in an adjacent chair next to Callie, hours had passed with barely a murmur from the somewhat dissociative Brunette. She had risen once for the bathroom, and muttered a husky 'thanks' when Arizona brought her a subsequent coffee and the brownie that she knew Callie loved.

"How are you doin'?" Arizona asked softly, placing two glasses of wine down in front of them. She allowed her eyes to drift briefly to Callie's neck, swallowing the anger it elicited in her. She felt a rush of sadness in its place.

"Good," Callie muttered, looking up and sitting back. She peered at the glass in confusion before wincing as she rolled her stiff shoulders and took in the closed up café. "Where did the afternoon go?"

Arizona shrugged and nodded to her notebook. "You've been very intense, not at all bothered by me working around you."

"Oh, did you need help?" Callie asked, face deadpan. It was taking her a few moments to reintegrate her body and mind, to come back to the present.

"No Callie, not even remotely." Arizona shifted on the chair, crossing her legs and sitting sideways, armed draped along the back. "I do have some good news."

"Mmmm?" Closing the ratty, scribbled in book, Callie secured it with a rubber band; a pen and several pieces of crumpled paper poked out. She left it on the table and took a sip of white wine.

"Well, I sorted your…ummm, problem. I guess."

"Huh?"

Reaching across, Arizona softly trailed her fingers along the underside of Callie's jaw; she froze on touch. "This won't happen again."

"What? How, I mean, what?"

"It's sorted."

"Arizona, I just had to pay them some money, which I can do this week."

Holding an index finger to Callie's lips, Arizona shook her head. "That's not quite how these people work, it's okay, you're just considered with me now."

Callie paused, that mere line made her feel sickeningly weak; powerless to the woman that she would do anything to kiss right then and there. And they were all of a few hand spaces apart; how insanely quickly the propulsion infiltrated her being. "I don't know what I should say."

"Nothing at all, it was a text message, honestly. Nothing."

"It's not actually…you're breaking the 'code'," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Don't ever take the fall for someone else, right?"

Arizona smiled, dropping her hand back to the table. "The code is bullshit."

They fell into a brief silence, drinking from their glasses and tracing patterns in the water marks left by the bases. Callie silently debated in her mind, as to whether to take the conversation where she desperately wanted to. There was still so much she didn't know about Arizona; that she didn't understand. It wasn't as if she needed to know everything about her; it was more that she wanted to find some way to match all the inconsistencies. The way Arizona could be so gentle and caring, protective; yet so damaged in how she separated sex and emotion. It was confusing.

"Can I ask you something?" Callie eventually whispered, voice uncertain.

"That's the second time you've asked me that today."

"Sorry."

"You can ask me anything, it just doesn't guarantee an answer. But don't be scared of me, I won't bite your head off. If I don't want to answer, I won't."

Callie paused, a slight smirk escaping her pressed lips. Arizona raised her eyebrows, expression light and inviting. "Well," she drew out and laughed awkwardly, wondering where her impulsivity and extraversion had escaped to. "I was wondering, kind of, if you could explain your whole casual thing to me. The casual sex thing, not you know, clothing."

Laughing, Arizona gave a perplexed look. "Ummm, are you looking for more than _sex is good_?"

As if invited, Callie spontaneously relaxed and shook her head, finger tapping deliberately on the table between them. "It doesn't make sense, Arizona. You're this clearly _nice_ person, who is gorgeous and successful and still, you what? Fuck around? I know that's not a nice way to put it, but am I right in that's what it is?"

Arizona dropped her gaze to her lap, eyelids hiding the clear blue that Callie found captivating. "Umm no, that's it. I suppose, no use in sugar coating it."

"Then, why? And look, I don't proclaim to be perfect in any way, and I am more than happy to disclose my completely screwed up relationship history."

"Does there have to be a why?" Arizona asked, and there was an acknowledgement on her face at she looked back up at Callie. "Maybe it's just who I am. That's how I was made."

"I don't believe that."

"It's not an issue, really," she loosely tried justify, "it's just me. As fucked up as that looks, well, maybe it is."

"You don't worry about things like that woman last night?"

Arizona shrugged and slowly shook her head. "It's not like I pretend to be anything else, I don't. I don't…do that…with people I…I just don't do that unless they're on the same page."

"Ever thought about making different choices?"

"Being a relationship person?" Arizona asked, smiling.

"Yeah."

"Sometimes I guess. What about you? Is there anything you wouldn't do for the right person?" she teased, and Callie laughed into her glass mid mouthful, coughing.

"I'm sure that's a line from something."

"Avoidant."

"Too true," Callie conceded, "but you know what they say, once burned…"

"Ah, nope. What do they say?"

"Oh shush," she responded quickly and Arizona dropped one hand from her wine to hold it innocently out to the side.

"Hey, I answered your question. Who's being evasive now?"

"Well, I tried," Callie admitted, shaking her head. "I did the mature, relationship thing and it all turned to absolute shit. So really, maybe you're on to it. Although I don't really do casual all so well, and my experience of relationships is all crap. And that, would leave me in limbo land."

"Women are all messed up, right?"

"Probably not just women, but I think you're right. Have I mentioned that my ex is in town?"

"What? No…you have had a shit day, haven't you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Callie agreed, tipping her head slightly back and finishing her glass. "The old band is playing here, old as in, with my replacement. Nothing like losing it all, right? The woman I loved, as crazy as all crazy, as she turned out to be and, as if that's not enough. My career as well."

Arizona empathised, shaking her head and expression emanating disgust. She rubbed Callie's arm who just offered a pitiful though slightly bemused expression, she had moved on. With almost everything, except for her career. "You can still make music though, I saw you writing today. Full on."

Callie shrugged. "Yeah, weird how into it I was this afternoon. It feels like forever, wish I could get it all back happening again. Recording and touring, performing; it was pretty amazing."

"You could."

"Maybe."

"Whether you're in the same 'old' band or not, you're still a musician. Go solo or get involved in another one. You're hardly done."

"Just because it's the way it's always been doesn't mean it has to stay that way?"

Arizona nodded eagerly. "Yeah, exactly."

"You know, you can take your own advice." Callie grinned at Arizona's surprised expression.

"I walked right into that, huh?"

"Hmmmm, kind of."

Standing up, Arizona disappeared at the back of the café and the sound of keys jingling drifted to Callie where she waited quietly. She was hoping Arizona was returning with the wine bottle, instead, she heard her locking the rear door. Seconds later and Arizona was at Callie's side, squeezing her upper arm. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Callie asked, shoving her notebook into her usual satchel and stiffly rising to her feet. She involuntarily rubbed at her scarf covered neck.

"Your place."

"Sorry? Where going where?"

"To yours; you're going to demonstrate some of your music skills and I have the wine," she explained, glass clinking under her arm in evidence.

"Oh no, it's way too messy."

"We're past that kind of politeness."

"No, honestly Arizona, it is so past messy, it's not funny."

Arizona waved away Callie's concern, and gently pushed her out the front door, securing multiple locks behind her. "I so do messy."

With her feet hanging over the edge of Callie's cluttered sofa, Arizona's sock clad feet epitomised just how out of place she appeared with the Polo logo embroidered on the inside of each ankle.

Most surprisingly though, was that the image was in stark contrast to reality with both Callie and Arizona incredibly relaxed and sprawled out amongst the mildly and hastily cleared space.

They had been lazing around for hours.

Callie strummed haphazardly on her acoustic guitar, occasionally murmuring lyrics as she played around with endless verse constructions. Arizona encouraged her, enthusiastically at first before they shared another bottle of white and a number of paper wrapped joints.

The intensity just drifted off, until Arizona sporadically dozed, curled up on one end of the couch, pillow bunched under her head and hair splayed over Callie's thigh. She flicked her eyes occasionally, peering up at Callie and smiling, articulation sleep filled as she said what she liked and requested more. "Beautiful," she said, one eye open and Callie reached down to brush a blond curl across her forehead.

"You're an easy critic."

"I know what I like."

Callie smiled, though her expression was sombre. "Me too," she whispered.

Eyes drifting closed again, Arizona absorbed the soft caress of Callie's feather light touch across her forehead and through her hair. She was oblivious for almost ten minutes as Callie set her guitar against the arm of the chair and rhythmically calmed Arizona.

Without scrutiny, she watched Arizona, working her gaze from the tiny make up covered blemishes along her jaw line and down her neck where her pale skin earned the faintest red mark from the harsh edge of the cushion. She could only imagine the smoothness that would be under her lips, given the slightest of invitation and the suppleness she would find beneath Arizona's immaculate clothes. Arizona was every bit as _beautiful_ as she perceived Callie's music to be.

"That's so relaxing," Arizona murmured, eyes still closed and lips just barely edging apart.

Callie smiled down at her. "Good," she whispered in reply.

"You stopped playing."

"No, just turned my attention."

Playful; knowingly flirtatious.

"I like both."

"Good, I'm happy to provide both," Callie soothed, voice low and words drawn out.

Arizona sighed. "This is what I miss out on," she said after a moment, breath a little shorter and the muscles around her eyes tensing. She was working at keeping them closed.

"Yeah," Callie agreed, thumb trailing down her cheek and running the length of Arizona's lower lip. Her hand came to rest gently around her neck. "But shhhh, go back to sleep."

"I should go."

Still, she made no effort to move though her hand that was flaccid across her stomach curled into a weak fist.

"You can stay, if you like," Callie offered, feeling the rise and fall of Arizona's chest. She could sense an impending departure.

But for a minute, she thought that Arizona might just be considering it; silent, restful; unmoving.

And then Arizona sat up, legs swinging to the ground and coming to rest on an old plastic box of electrical leads. She slumped back against the couch and turned hazy eyes to Callie, she half smiled apologetically. "I should go."

Exhaling her disappointment, Callie closed her eyes in a long blink before forcing them open. She stared at Arizona, willing her to make a different decision; trying to figure out what might possibly trigger a different choice. Perhaps she was trying to trigger something that didn't exist, but everything about Arizona was telling her it wasn't hopeless. What she wanted wasn't lost.

And her lips were brushing against Arizona's before she could give it another conscious thought.

Slowly and tenderly kissing her.

Arizona stilled, indulging and innately granting Callie liberty to explore her lower lip.

Only then, did she gradually pull back, still close enough that Callie could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke. "I can't stay."

Callie nodded. "I know," she sighed and she pressed a brief kiss to the edge of Arizona's mouth. "I know."

 **TBC….**

 **Chapter Eight: An Ode To Death**

 _April 1st 2014_

 _The thing about history_

 _For me_

 _Is that it is_

 _Set on repeat_

 _Unless I change_

 _Maybe you_

 _Are the catalyst_

 _For my_

 _Transformation_

As two hands pressed to her shoulders, pushing her back, Arizona had the overwhelming sensation that she should have ended her crap day with a bottle of wine and a sleeping pill rather than martinis and a peroxided blonde. Dull green eyes bore into her and she returned a quizzical look, fingers still probing beneath the stranger's skirt.

"I just need the bathroom," the woman murmured, pushing Arizona a little stronger until she stepped back.

Arizona gave an impatient and exasperated sigh, she wasn't there to wait. "You have to be kidding me," she said.

"I'll make it worth your while."

"You fucking better," Arizona muttered under her breath, though she contemplated just walking out the door. It quickly lost the appeal for her, when the momentum was interrupted or she had more than two seconds to think about the dysfunction in her habits; as Callie had slowly come to probe into over the past few weeks.

Callie, with her delicious full lips and gentle, respectful way had invited her over after watching Arizona's mood progressively deteriorate through the course of the day. She had promised wine and a massage, take out Chinese and space to talk; 'or not' as she had tagged on to the end.

And Arizona almost accepted the offer, except that she didn't. Almost wasn't good enough for Callie, and if Arizona could find a way out of this life she was in, she would. She would step straight out of it and into Callie's; because ninety nine percent of the time, there was no one else she would rather be around.

It was just the one percent where she felt powerless against the drive to fuck anything that looked good.

But then she was left standing in a dark, and if she was being honest, very unsavoury apartment, sobering impatiently. And time wasn't working in her favour as she took in the walls with holes and the bare mattress in front of her. And the suddenly blatantly identifiable, tourniquet and syringe packet on the floor next to the bed.

 _Shit._

Arizona glanced at her watch and back around the room; she checked her watch again, having no idea how long she had been standing alone in the room. Stepping out, she felt her heart rate pick up, banging in her chest and she scraped at her neck with her fingernails. "Hey?" she called out, quietly at first before flicking on a light and raising her voice.

After repeating herself and banging on the bathroom door, she turned the scraped metal knob and kicked the door with her foot. A slumped body, half propped against the bathtub greeted her. "Fucking hell," Arizona swore, pulling her cell from her back pocket and pressing two fingers to the woman's carotid artery. The needle was still poking out of her arm.

And she had to use Google maps to even know where to direct the paramedics.

Her mind reeled; she had to direct the fucking ambulance to a dead woman as she pounded on her chest and tried to ignore the blue lips and pale skin. And the unmistakable sound of ribs cracking; the futility wasn't lost on her.

Arizona waited too, because she wasn't insane and she wasn't inhumane; this woman belonged to someone, somewhere. At some point anyway, everyone is born to someone. She answered what felt like a hundred questions, over and over; she had answered them all before. But no one knew that.

Time passed, circumstances changed. But the questions, they stayed the same.

She gave her name; her contact number. And then she slipped away as the tears welled and she stumbled down the stairs and then into a run.

Down the road.

Through an abandoned, rocky car park.

Over a short wire fence and across a grassed square, stumbling at the uneven ground.

Crouching in front of a garden, she coughed and spluttered, trying to dispel the stale alcohol in her gut and the memories from her mind. They all stayed put.

She looked up high, to where she knew Callie's apartment was and the light was on. A single lit up window, amongst the darkened shades. Arizona walked slowly up to her door, wiping under her eyes and smearing her mascara smudged fingers against her designer jeans.

Standing motionless at Callie's door, Arizona took a few deep breaths and turned the handle, fighting the urge to fold at the waist and shrink to the floor. Callie was half sitting and eyes wide at the sudden intrusion, falling back against the sofa cushions as she immediately recognised Arizona. "You scared the shit out of me," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead and sliding the guitar she had been strumming to the floor.

Arizona nodded and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her and twisting the lock that Callie hadn't bothered with. Her face was pale and eyes unfocussed; Callie's forehead slowly creased in concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly, observing Arizona intently as she stepped over an amplifier and around the edge of the couch. "Arizona?"

Without stopping, Arizona placed one knee to the side of Callie's hips and captured her lips in a searing kiss as she straddled her waist. She moaned into Callie's mouth and fumbled her hands down, more urgent when Callie resisted.

"Are you okay?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side and cupping Arizona's glistening face with two hands. She was barely given an opportunity to focus before Arizona's fingers were beneath her waistband and inside the loose cotton panties she wore beneath sweats. Callie's mouth fell ajar and her breath caught. "You didn't want this," she pointed out quietly, and she was suddenly a mixture of concerned and aroused. Arizona avoided the comment with yet another impassioned kiss.

And it didn't surprise her in the least that Arizona's skilful hands pressed at her in all the right spots and with perfect pace and pressure. Her exploration of Arizona's intent slowed and lost fervour, her breathing became ragged and the pads of her fingers clawed at the small of Arizona's back, underneath the shear sleeveless shirt she wore. She kissed Arizona back until her mouth fell ajar and she couldn't focus, eyes squeezed shut as she panted her hasty climax against Arizona's ear.

Holding tight to Arizona's back, Callie swallowed and licked her lips. "Arizona?" she asked quietly as the blonde pressed her forehead into Callie's chest, blonde hair soft against her chin. They stayed that way for a few minutes, until Callie pressed a kiss to the top of Arizona's head and her fingertips started to slide deliberately down the back of her pants.

And then Arizona was stumbling to her feet and tears were gathered on her lashes; and she was shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she muttered, disorientated almost. "I have to go."

"Wait, where? Where are you going?"

Arizona was quick when she wanted to be, ninja like in how she was in the doorway before Callie was even on her feet. But she still heard the sob that Arizona tried to hide beneath the sound of the scraping door hinge. "Arizona!" Callie called, more urgent this time as the door slammed shut and Callie fumbled to slide an old pair of faded Converse on her bare feet. She was still straightening her pants as she grabbed her keys and ran after Arizona. She felt dazed and slightly uncomfortable with her swollen, post climax sensation between her legs. And she had no idea why she was chasing Arizona down the street and towards the Café at one in the morning.

Not that she hesitated to do it; it was all just a bit surreal. The dark clouds that eroded Arizona's usually placid and cheerful expression during the afternoon and the way she shied away from Callie's persistent requests to keep her company. At least her instincts were reasonable; she had just a slight nagging feeling in the back of her consciousness that these were Arizona's signs. The small indications that Arizona was likely to disappear into the night and seek out something or someone to fill the exposed void. She had been slowly coming to understand, to comprehend.

Not for a moment did she expect to be the one Arizona would seek though; not so blatantly at least.

But then her leaving; it didn't add up. And, she presumed that Arizona didn't usually run in tears from the women she pleasured. That wasn't even remotely how Arizona described her casual approach; it was brief but passionate and definitely mutually pleasing.

It was all a bit bizarre as they ran down the dimly lit street and around the corner, feet heavy on the side walk. Callie didn't consider herself a runner at the best of times, and she was fairly sure she was quite the amusing sight as she stumbled on her too long pants, hair wildly bouncing against her shoulders.

She was grateful to find Arizona unlocking the café door and stepping inside; if Arizona wanted to outrun her, she certainly could.

Following her in, Callie slowly bent at the waist and rested her hands on her knees, panting softly. "Let's not do anymore running," she said quickly, watching Arizona distractedly search on tables and benches, and under the serving counter. "If that's alright with you," she added, to which Arizona seemed to respond by chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm no expert," Callie pressed on, "but generally, when someone is upset and at a friend's house, they tend to talk. Not run. Especially after midnight. I mean, a nice easy few miles at eleven, sure…but after midnight…"

Callie only hoped that her sarcasm would be well received; she was pretty sure Arizona wasn't going to respond to the direct approach. She already hadn't responded, to the direct approach.

In fact, she had run from the _direct approach_.

Arizona eyed her distractedly, not really taking in Callie's words or the light intent behind them. Not that the Callie was making fun of the situation or not taking it seriously, the opposite in fact; she was concerned that she could upset Arizona further or elicit an angry or fleeing response. Arizona shook her head, eyes unfocussed. "I have absolutely nothing, I am completely out."

"Ummm, of?" Callie asked.

"What do you think?" Arizona retaliated, yet her voice wasn't malicious, just exhausted.

"Oh," Callie acknowledged, "right, of course. Well, I have some weed back home, you're welcome to whatever you like."

Raking her fingers through her tangled blond curls, Arizona shrugged and seemed to contemplate her next move by staring at the ceiling. "I might just go see if they're around, sometimes they're out at this time."

Callie offered a fleeting sceptical glance at her watch before nodding slowly. She thought that perhaps colluding gently with Arizona was a good strategy; the last thing she wanted was Arizona stomping off on her own. "You sure? I'm happy to come along it's just, well, it's late Arizona."

"What the hell else am I meant to do?"

Rubbing open palms over her face, Arizona squeezed tightly at the bridge of her nose and Callie took a few tentative steps towards her. "Just take a breath for a second."

"Please don't patronise me."

"I'm really not trying to," Callie explained softly and she received a slow nod in return. "And I'm also trying really hard not to fire questions and to completely smother you. Okay? You get that, right?"

"I do."

"Alright, so how's this for a plan? We go back to mine, or yours, whatever you're more okay with and we just sit or sleep and you don't go running into the night like some mad woman…"

Arizona swallowed, teeth clenching and lips pursing to desperately hold the tears that spontaneously welled, at bay.

"Yeah?" Callie asked.

"I don't know," Arizona said after a moment of awkward silence, "I'm really on edge."

Taking another few steps closer, Callie nodded; she stopped just over an arm length away. "Yep, totally get that; I really really don't want you doing something completely stupid though. And being like this and using, kind of a recipe for disaster."

Arizona's gaze dropped to the floor and she slowly nodded; for the very first time in a long time, she didn't feel in control. And she was meant to be all about control; she relied on it. She needed control, or all of this was for nothing.

"I'll take a guess that you're not that keen on me making the decision for you, but what if you give me a chance to be all trustworthy?"

"Trust you?" Arizona asked quietly, running her hand down her clothes and smoothing the creases. The resounding memory of ribs fracturing brought bile up her throat as her fingers followed the contours of her own ribcage. She clenched her fists.

Callie calmly smiled a small sympathetic half smirk. "Yeah hun, I'm good for it."

"Do you mind if we go to yours?"

"Sure, you don't want to go home?"

Arizona shook her head. "Not really."

"Doesn't bother me, you just have to tolerate the mess and share the couch with me. Although I have to say, I now have quite nice connotations with that sofa." Arizona blushed a shade of red, cheeks crimson as a gradual heat crept up her neck. "Other than how kind of crap and sad you look, anyway," Callie continued, holding an open palm out in between them.

Arizona looked at Callie's proffered hand and then up to meet her eyes for the first time. "I really don't want to talk about it."

Shrugging and nodding, Callie replied, "Okay, I'm just happy if you're in my line of sight really. But don't feel like you can't, if you want to."

Shaking her head, Arizona clenched her teeth and contemplated her next move. Despite the agitation in her body, her energy started to dissipate. It seemed to ooze out of her with each exhalation and her arm and leg muscles burned with the tenseness she had maintained for hours. "I don't want to," she repeated again, quieter this time.

Callie smiled warmly and wiggled her fingers, internally begging Arizona to take her hand, as if the connection would provide the security she was looking for. A guarantee that Arizona wasn't about to disappear into the dark streets in search of a score to numb whatever it was that was distressing her. "Got it," Callie insisted, and she thought for a moment that Arizona's expression was about to crumble.

It didn't.

She did drop her slightly sweaty palm into Callie's hand and entwined their fingers though, and a detectible sigh of relief fell uncensored from Callie's lips. "Okay," Arizona murmured and she knew her grip was tightening.

"Come on, let's go before we have to be back here in a few hours," Callie murmured, taking the keys from Arizona's other hand and leading her out the front door. They walked quietly and although Arizona's shoulders were square and posture composed, she kept close to Callie so their arms grazed with each alternate step. In the darkness at her front door, Callie released their grip and fumbled briefly with her keys before giving the door a swift kick and the lock gave way. She offered Arizona a guilty look before firmly pushing at her lower back to encourage her inside.

"I'll just grab you something comfortable to sleep in and a spare toothbrush," Callie insisted and Arizona nodded silently; Callie didn't mention that she had bought the toothbrush weeks ago, hoping specifically that Arizona would be the one to need it. Not under the present circumstances though. "Bathroom," she said, pointing across the room and holding out a folded oversized tee-shirt, "and help yourself to anything else you need."

She waited for Arizona to close the door behind her before scurrying to clear as much room as she could on the sofa. Her ability to accumulate endless piles of crap was beyond comprehension, all of it needed of course. At one time or another. Bundling as much as she could, she wrapped it in a sheet and stuffed it under her desk in the music room, on top of a pile of old cables and an unstrung old bass guitar. She hoisted the amplifier into the door and her eyes grazed over the recording equipment, knowing she had to pull it all out and connect it at some point, to start actually getting some of her more recent work out of her head and in an audio file.

For the moment however, she had a pseudo bed to create and she supposed it should make her wish for a nice basic two bedroom apartment with a Queen sized bed and crisp sheets. Maybe even with bedside lamps and an organised walk in robe; still she knew better than anyone that those things didn't bring happiness.

More agile sex perhaps…with decent mood lighting.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she was halfway through spreading a likely clean quilt over the entire sofa and tossing the back cushions aside to create a wider sleeping space. She added a pillow, complete with replaced cover up one end and stepped around the coffee table. It was nice for her feet to land on carpet rather than mystery objects of various importance. "You need anything?" she asked and Arizona shook her head.

"I'll just grab myself a water, is that okay?"

"Of course, go for it. Just relax and I'll be out in a sec," Callie replied, using the bathroom and brushing her teeth before returning to find Arizona curled up on her side on the couch. She shivered slightly in the cool air and her bare legs, briefs just covered by the tee-shirt, were covered in tiny goose bumps. Callie draped a blanket over her and sat on the edge of the seat, open palm resting on Arizona's hip. "Okay?" she asked gently, so aware that Arizona had barely murmured more than a couple of words since stepping through her door an hour before. Callie rubbed at her side and raised her eyebrows, again, watching Arizona's blue irises glaze with tears. Despite her worry, she earned a barely detectible nod from Arizona and watched her pale lips press together. "Can I," Callie swallowed and gave an uncertain expression, "lie behind you?"

"Please."

Callie almost tumbled over Arizona in response to her pleading tone; she melted at the vulnerability forming through her cracks in composure. "Good," Callie murmured into her ear as she slid into the tight space and emulated Arizona's position, curling into her back and behind her legs. She smoothed Arizona's hair against her neck and pulled the blanket high over her shoulder before settling into the pillow.

With a slight shudder, Arizona closed her eyes and pressed herself back, closer into Callie's warmth. A tear dripped unnoticed over the bridge of her nose and across her temple before being absorbed by the pillow material.

Slowly, Callie draped an arm over Arizona's chest and rested it comfortably, heavy and secure. "Thanks," Arizona whispered through wet lips and Callie smiled behind her.

She pressed a tender kiss between her shoulder blades and nuzzled Arizona with the tip of her nose. " _I got ya_."

TBC…

 **Chapter 10: I Found You**

 **AN:** Sorry all! That was a little longer between updates than I hoped. A little longer part to make up for it though. Thanks for the ongoing reviews and the new round of alerts that the last chapter brought - thrilled that you're enjoying this odd fic! :-) Thanks heaps.

 **Chapter Nine: I Found You**

 _And the slow burn_

 _Builds_

 _Solid_

 _Beneath our feet_

 _So we will be stronger_

 _When the time comes_

 _To be_

 _Unmovable_

 _April 28th, 2014_

As the weeks had passed, Callie spent more and more time at the café, arriving most mornings and habitually going about working alongside Arizona. She still took a couple of evening shifts at the bar, but was mostly content with the regular income she was now earning. It had been years since she had a few dollars in the bank, just a few spare hundred, so she wasn't completely living day-to-day.

It was comfortable and familiar now, and their relationship walked a fine line between platonic and something more. Callie was particularly affectionate, using simple touches as part of her normal communication. She thought nothing of wrapping her fingers around Arizona's arm to hold her still as she whispered an observation or question in her ear.

Slowly, Arizona was starting to emulate her, kissing Callie's cheek at the end of a particularly long day or pulling her into a tight hug after yet another growing homeless dinner.

Despite the weeks, they never really spoke of Arizona's meltdown; the evening she spiralled in self-destruction and spent the night wrapped in Callie's arms.

Callie had hinted at it a few times, referring casually back to that night, yet each time Arizona's cheeks had reddened and she dropped her gaze embarrassed. Then the conversation was hastily diverted. There was always something else to talk about, somewhere else to be; something to distract with. And Arizona had a habit of disappearing into herself, although it was always incredibly subtle. As if no one would ever really notice except those who had managed to tap inside her walls and genuinely get to know her. She was always polite and charismatic, predictably so. But on occasion, like that day at the café, she was just a little quieter. She smiled and laughed, where usually she would tap on a comment or continue the conversation. She kept Callie talking, prompting her with small murmurs or intrigued looks; perhaps a tried and tested strategy to stay under the radar.

But Callie could tell, she picked up on the small cues now. After four months of knowing each other, that was one of the small signs of the depth of their friendship; their connection. In exactly the same way that Arizona nudged Callie to keep recording when she was procrastinating; and to stop when she was getting frustrated. Or the way Arizona always draped an arm around her shoulder or distracted her when a song came on the radio from her old band.

So that day, Callie chatted idly, colluding with Arizona's quiet mood until she could kindly enquire.

"…honestly, a complete binge. A writing binge; an entire new song on YouTube, I'll have to show you, I'm freakin' killing it with hits. And a few other bits and pieces. I'm even doing a set at work soon, some solo guy pulled out and it saves Jake, who for some reason is now organising the live music, trying to get someone else sorted."

Arizona nodded and grinned, hands flaccid at her sides. "That's brilliant, I'll be there."

"Yeah you will, you'll have to keep me from stressing out. It's been so long."

"You'll be great."

"Maybe," Callie said, laughing. She tilted her head slightly, gazing at Arizona, who turned away distractedly under the scrutiny. Callie caught the back of her shirt and enquired softly, "You alright today?"

"Yeah of course," Arizona shrugged and smiled. Where she had used to melt under that smile, Callie now saw past it; she could distinguish between the messages behind them.

"You're quiet, that's all," Callie pointed out gently.

Another shrug rolled off Arizona shoulders. "I'm good, just tired."

Narrowing her eyes, Callie rested an open palm over Arizona's shoulder, holding her at arms length. She analysed her before asking, "You been using more?" Arizona genuinely smiled and shook her head. "Out, you know, screwing weirdos?"

An involuntary laugh emanated from Arizona's mouth and she swatted Callie's arm away. "Actually, no."

"At all?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Well, I am a little. You've been telling me for months, it's your _thing_."

"Yeah, I guess. Trying to avoid trouble right now."

"Then why so tired?" Callie asked, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. Arizona's complexion was a little paler than usual and the faint darkness under her eyes more pronounced. "Have you not been sleeping?"

Arizona screwed her nose up, waiting just a moment before answering, considering avoidance or honesty. "Not really, trying to limit the old Xanax."

Callie nodded slowly, she wanted to prompt Arizona to elaborate but she had gotten more than she expected and a round of patrons had just loudly entered through the front door and were joining two tables together and settling in the corner. Arizona glanced over at them and calmly inhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. "There's always my couch," Callie joked, "hours of quality sleep there."

Laughing lightly, Arizona retied her apron and nodded. "Oddly true."

Indicating over her shoulder with an annoyed look, Callie asked, "You or me?"

"You take first order, I'm just going to use the bathroom." Opening her mouth to challenge, Callie was quickly shushed. "Literally, not a code."

"Oh, right. I'll start sorting these men then." Callie clapped her hands and walked around the serving counter, six men talking amongst each other and intermittently tapping at phones and iPads. Callie perused the tabletop, counting at least ten phones, outbalancing the six people. "What can I get you, Gents?" Callie asked, squaring her shoulders and spreading a smile across her lips. She repositioned some napkins, precariously balancing on the edge of the table where they had lifted them together.

They ordered quickly; and only, as they recited a range of specific options without a single glance at the board or menus, did Callie realise they were quite familiar. In fact, the pieces were slowly falling into place and only reinforced further when one asked for Arizona, just as she was about to head back to prepare their coffees. "Is she around? Just tell her to let us know if she needs anything, while we're here. Oh, and I trust you've had no further trouble with Bluey?"

"I'm sorry?" Callie asked.

"Corey," one of the others jumped in and smirked at the table. "Don't worry, he's across town at the moment, trying not to cause anyone too much trouble."

"Oh, right," Callie mumbled, "thanks for that." She nodded quickly and disappeared, glancing around the quiet surrounds, grateful at least that they tended to pick the quiet times to meet. Not that she knew why they insisted on using Arizona's café for their business dealings, nor why they were drawing attention to Arizona's connection. Or hers for that matter.

She was half way through texturing milk when Arizona returned, glancing towards the men with a blank expression before standing next to Callie and grinding some fresh beans. "All okay over there?"

"Yeah, they're ummm, well, you know what they're doing."

"Sorry, they didn't hassle you?"

"No, not at all. Just made sure I knew who they were."

"I order, they use my space. It's okay."

Callie nodded and smiled, though it all made her a little uneasy. She wasn't exactly sure that was the extent of Arizona's relationship with them, but they had certainly never caused any problems before. Though their behaviour today was a little more animated than usual, the phones and a few pointed fingers across the table. She knew they were hardly at Corey's level, but what and where, she wasn't so sure.

"I've seen them here before," Callie said after a few moments, "never really clicked."

"Mmmm, their frequency is increasing a bit."

"They're not dangerous?" Callie asked quietly, coincidentally as their voices escalated and a few harshly spoken expletives were thrown across the table, voice deep and echoing.

Arizona sighed, and muttered under her own breath. "Did I look like I needed this shit today?" she asked Callie rhetorically, shaking her head and heading over to them. Callie watched as Arizona walked slowly over, shoulders rolling as she tried to dispel the tenseness. With one hand on the table and one palm open in front of her, she pushed her hand between them. "Enough," she said quietly, "just, enough."

A hushed exchange followed and Callie stood back, observing, coffees lined on a tray and ready to take over. She watched the way they spoke with Arizona, drawing her in but responding to the boundaries she was putting in place. Then there was the slight creepiness, lips that shadowed her ear and the hand that held her arm in a grip that left red marks.

Arizona tore her arm back and took the coffees wordlessly from Callie, delivering them quickly before heading back. Callie waited, impatiently mostly, for an explanation. "Who the fuck are they?" she eventually asked, when Arizona simply fumed next to her.

"You know who they are."

"I know, but what, level or whatever. Are they running the show in Seattle?" Callie voice was hushed and a little breathless.

"I don't know."

"Seriously Arizona, you want to be caught up in this shit? Are you part of it? Part of their…"

"No," Arizona rushed to answer, shaking her head and nudging Callie out the back and out of sight. "No, I'm not; do you really think that? Feed the homeless by day and deal by night? Come on."

"Well, I don't know!" Callie exclaimed, shaking her head and gesturing wildly. "You could lose this place Arizona, you could lose everything."

A darkness swept across Arizona's expression and she took a breath, calming herself. "It's just complicated, okay, can you live with that explanation?"

"They know who I am!"

"I know, okay. But it's not bad, they're protecting you; they protect me."

"I don't think they're the brotherly type…do you have any idea what you're involved in?"

"It's complicated."

Callie rubbed at her face and stood with her hands on her hips. "So you said."

"Please don't be angry, I won't let _anything_ happen to you. I promise, I promise." There was so much conviction in Arizona's tone that Callie actually felt some, though not all, of the sick anxious feeling in her gut, dissipate. "They're arseholes, okay, yep. I know, I really know. And they'll get what is coming to them, but you will be fine."

"And will you?"

"Yes," Arizona insisted, "yes. And I know it doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't; I'm completely confused and I don't understand how you are a part of this and why and how much."

Arizona wasn't sure she had all the answers either and for the moment, keeping everything under control and everyone safe was the important thing. She had spent the entire month just trying to draw all the pieces back together, to get herself back in charge. And she was achieving that; slowly.

She just couldn't do it without Callie now; without her in her life. Callie brought her stability and calmness; kept her engaged in the real world, living and feeling. Stepping forward, she cupped Callie's face and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. She felt Callie exhale over her jaw and down her neck. "I know," she confirmed, what else could she offer?

 _May 16th, 2014_

Voicemail had always given Callie an awkward hesitation, apprehensive of what drama might be unfolding just by a short, twenty second message on a device the size of a packet of gum. Ridiculous really, but nothing good had ever come from her voicemail; cancelled contracts, upset family, scandalous messages, enquiring journalists and overdue debts.

But with jeans pulled up yet unbuttoned and dressed only in a newly purchased lace trim fuchsia bra, she froze.

 _Callie, it's Danika Collins, you might remember me from back in two thousand and ten; I was outbid for a contract with your band. I've heard and seen your new solo venture, hoping you might be interested in discussing management options. There's talk of label interest so call me, any time._

"Faaaaaark. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck," Callie murmured, voice increasing as she bounced up and down on her toes. She stared at her phone, slowly forming a wide and ecstatic grin before tilting her face to the ceiling. "Yes!" She punched a fist in the air and repeated the message, checking the date and time stamp three times before holding her phone in her hand and drawing in some deep calming breaths. She needed to sound casual and relaxed, not like some psychodramatic desperate woman.

She couldn't believe the simple YouTube videos had actually brought her attention to someone. It was of course, the woman from years before that the rest of the band had refused to have manage them; mainly because she was normal and nice and got along extremely well with Callie. On reflection, she would have been a much better choice; her and her _husband_.

Reassured that the message was from the morning before, Callie dialled and held the phone to her ear. The discussion was short and direct, a few brief pleasantries exchanged and Danika quickly rattled off the connections she now had and who had mentioned her name and new genre. They made a plan to meet and discuss later in the week.

When she was convinced the call was disconnected and there was no one to hear her irrational screaming, she pumped her fist and squealed like a teenager. She jumped up and down, swearing as she landed on the sharp end of a discarded guitar string and clipped her elbow on the door handle. Still, she smiled foolishly for a few minutes before focussing on locating a shirt and applying some make up.

This was exactly the push she needed; and not just with her career.

With eyeliner and mascara applied, Callie ran a powdered blush over her cheekbones and a deep red gloss over her lips. She assessed her shirt in the mirror before discarding it to the clean pile and choosing another; one that sat low over the swell of her breasts and exposed tanned and muscular arms. She nodded more approvingly at the image, added high heeled boots and reached to the back of her cupboard. She blindly felt around, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch until she withdrew a black leather shoulder bag. Placing a few items inside, she rushed out the door, having to force herself to slow down on her way to Arizona's apartment.

Knocking on the door, she was impatient, looking around constantly and jiggling on the tips of her toes. She was like an excited child.

When Arizona slowly opened the door, she registered a small moment of shock before breaking into a smile. Unexpected or not, Callie had become a constantly welcomed visitor.

"Hi!" Callie exclaimed and stepped inside. "We're going out to celebrate," she insisted.

"We are? What are we celebrating?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Me, having a manager seek me out and wanting to meet with me to discuss music labels and their asking after me."

"What?" Arizona questioned, mouth ajar in curious smile. "Really?"

"Ah huh."

"Tell me more, you can't just say that. Who is she? How did she get in contact with you?"

Callie took a deep breath. "She phoned, having seen some of the stuff I've posted. She knows me, sort of, from ages ago. We kind of had a bidding war when we were looking for a new Manager and she was in the running but it didn't quite work out. So yeah, says she kept hoping I would pop back up after I _left_ the band."

"That is awesome, so so awesome. We do need to celebrate."

Eagerly nodding, Callie tumbled Arizona in to an impromptu tight hug and she felt Arizona laugh in her hold. Pressing a series of soft, playful kisses to her cheek, Callie stepped back and her eyes were bright and radiating happiness. "Let's go," she confirmed and Arizona was drawn into her excitable, child like space. It felt light and blissful, as if nothing in the world could ruin the moment.

And Arizona relished the feeling, chuckling as she grabbed her handbag off the occasion table and slipping a pair of open toed heels on her feet. The red leather matched the red capped sleeve silk top she had paired over a pair of black fitted trousers. Just like she felt comforted and connected, by the fingertips Callie danced at the small of her back, ushering her out of the apartment. "You got your keys?" she asked, pausing with the door just ajar. "I left my spares to your place at home."

Arizona nodded. "Yep, got them. What use are my spare keys if you never have them on you?"

"Hey, I was a little scattered when I left."

"You had cause to be," Arizona replied, "and I am insanely proud of you."

"I'm proud of me, I think," Callie said softly, "I'm not sure I can really believe it."

"You deserve it you know, you shouldn't be surprised. I've seen the work you've been putting in and your songs, oh, so incredible. I've said it a million times, but what you've produced in just a few months; just…beautiful."

Callie smiled at the compliment, where usually she would shrug it away or pretend she hadn't heard, she let it wash over her instead. Allowed the admiration to build her self-esteem, to well her confidence. "It was you, you know. You and your café and I don't know how you did it, but you made me think I was kind of crazy to just be wasting my time away. Not that you ever said that, but wait, how did you do that?"

Laughing, Arizona shrugged, throwing a hand out and banging the walk signal at the intersection. Music started to drift their way as they made their way closer to a side street, their favourite cocktail bar just a few hundred yards away. "You underestimate yourself in that equation, I didn't do a thing."

"Yeah, why do I not believe that? I was this lazy pothead a few months ago, who just laid around and strummed depressing melodies in between smokes."

"Then you discovered the fun of serving coffee all day."

"And you," Callie insisted, looking her arm through Arizona's as they crossed the road. "I happened upon this hot blonde who served the best organic coffee and nutritionally complete brownies in town."

"I see how that was motivating," Arizona joked.

"We so need to work on your ability to take a compliment," Callie muttered jovially, fingers scratching at Arizona's side so she squirmed, ticklish. "Hey, we're also working on your dancing tonight. We, are going to dance."

"Ask, and you shall receive."

"But first, champagne."

"Champagne?" Arizona asked, to which she earned an enthusiastic nod. "Alright, you go kick some people out of our usual spot and I'll get our drinks."

They entered easily and quickly, Callie giving two security a quick hug and Arizona stopping to ask how the night was going. They really had become regulars, particularly over the last month or so. The same thing happened behind the bar, where Arizona paid a fraction of the price for a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and chatted easily with the staff. She offered the same courtesy when they called into the café, free coffee and discounted meals. She was part of the community now, so too was Callie, after a gig just the week before.

"Nice work, you've secured our corner and I have drinks, so we're set. And, I want to hear more about how this Manager thing works; I have zero knowledge really. Although we used to have to deal with labels all the time, trying to get specific music on to television shows and that kind of thing."

"Yeah, well, it's sort of the same really. Just a different layer, like all of your Actors would have had. So instead of dealing directly with the artist, the Manager does all the negotiating and sourcing options. The final say comes down to the artist, but the groundwork and of course, whatever percentage of sales and salary agreement, is with the Manager. Which would be the same, right?"

Arizona gave a sheepish grin of recognition, handing Callie a full glass and settling in next to her. "Yeah of course, I didn't even think of that."

"Was it a nightmare, dealing with them?"

Scowling, Arizona asked, "The Managers or Actors?"

"Both?"

"Actors were insane, mostly. No, I shouldn't say that, there were some amazing people out there, committed and sensible and respectful. But others, you know, there's just so much pathology in that sector; people often go into acting to escape something. Their lives or childhood or parents or whatever, and then they earn all this money and its power…just messy in the end."

"Bit like the music industry."

"But then, the other group, the ones that are working hard and studying and pulling work wherever they can. They're the best, just nice people. Of course, that's a generalisation, there're so many exceptions and other factors."

"Stereotypes are there for a reason."

Arizona laughed, sipping her drink. "Because they fit a lot of the time?"

Nodding, Callie relaxed back, dropping a hand to rest over Arizona's wrist. "It sucks, but it's reality. I know, I was one of those stereotypes."

"Tortured, drugged up, Musician."

"Yep, that's the one."

"Not now though," Arizona reminded her and Callie laughed.

"Perhaps not all of those anyway, still a little drug fucked."

"Our greatest weakness, huh?"

Callie seemed to ponder the thought, drinking as she considered. "Maybe, greatest weakness though? I don't know."

"Are they yours?" Arizona asked.

"I don't think so," Callie said, shaking her head, "certainly a weakness, but not my greatest. And I don't think they're yours either." She squeezed Arizona arm and the back of her fingers brushed against her thigh.

"Me neither," Arizona responded quietly, eyes on Callie's fingers.

Sensing the change in mood, Callie tipped her head back and gulped the rest of her glass. "I want to dance," she said, changing the subject matter abruptly.

"Hmmm, dance? Already?"

"Yup," Callie said, placing her chin on Arizona's shoulder. "Dance with me?"

"Sure." She was powerless to resist.

Standing up, Callie waited for Arizona to finish her glass and indicated to the staff to mind their table, a reserve sign flying through the air from the bar and before Callie had opportunity to catch it, it slid across the ground and to her feet. She laughed loudly, picking it up and putting it in place before wiggling her fingers encouragingly at Arizona.

Cool fingers found their way into her grasp and she led Arizona on to the small dance floor, a few couples dancing together along with two larger groups of intoxicated women. A post work party perhaps or a Friday evening bachelorette gathering. She was fairly sure she spotted a flashing penis around one of the girls' neck.

They danced for almost six songs, sweat rimming their foreheads and between their shoulder blades as they weaved their way back through the growing crowd. They laughed and shouted over the music and Callie's hands seemed unable to stop from reaching for Arizona, grazing her arm or resting on her hip, pulling her closer. Arizona had happily engaged, eventually falling heavily against Callie's chest and declaring that she needed to rest, and drink.

Collapsing back into their quiet corner, they laughed and finished off another glass in a few minutes. A second bottle found its way into the ice bucket before they even asked for it. With an arm draped along the back of their chair, Callie stilled, eyes gazing at Arizona's profile intensely. She smiled softly when Arizona turned and widened her eyes, questioning.

Reaching her fingers between them, Callie brushed at a wayward blonde curl, giggling as it took three attempts to tuck it behind Arizona's ear. "Stubborn piece," she observed and Arizona blinked, long eyelashes evident against the soft glow light that bounced off the nearby bar. "You know, you were right before, we've known each other for almost four months now."

Arizona nodded, though she wasn't sure when she had exactly articulated it.

"And," Callie drew out slowly, "we've kissed," she added, smiling at Arizona's acknowledgement; that she remembered. "And, kind of had something, _something_ , resembling sex."

Opening her mouth to rush into defensive mode, Arizona earned a index finger to her lips.

"Let me finish," she insisted. "It's just, I know that was all messy and you were going through something," Callie murmured, wondering in her tipsy state if she could say _'something_ ' any more times. "Anyway, not the point. I just, Arizona…I want more. With you, that is, I like you and I want more. We're around each other all the time but even when we're not, I'm thinking about you; about how you are and what you're doing and if you're home or out and in trouble. I want to be able to touch you and kiss you and hold you; and I want that to not be this limbo place that we're in where that's somewhere between appropriate and not."

"Callie…" Arizona said gently, trying to interrupt.

"No wait, I'm not making sense. This is not going as well as it did in my head; but I just want to put it out there so we're clear; I like you and I want to be more, than we are."

"Callie," Arizona tried again but Callie raced ahead.

"I know that I'm probably not what you're looking for, it's not like I have all my shit together and I'm fuck, not at all perfect."

Laughing lightly, Arizona muttered, "Oh my God, quiet," as she wrapped a hand around her neck and held her firmly. Pressing her lips to Callie's she captured her in an intense kiss, silencing the weakening rant.

When they broke apart, she breathlessly rested her forehead to Callie's and closed her eyes. "Shush," she murmured, "I want this too."

TBC…

 **Chapter 11: Armour For Liars**

 **AN:** Thanks so much everyone, glad to hear some are pleased to read some relationship progression (I was getting them there!)! :-) I apologise if there's a few errors through this part, I've proofread but with seriously tired eyes. Hope you enjoy it all the same though. Thank you!

 **Chapter Ten: Armour For Liars**

 _Buried deep_

 _In long since_

 _Dismissed_

 _Pages_

 _Of history_

 _Lies_

 _A reminder_

 _That we're_

 _Not as_

 _Controlled_

 _As we choose_

 _May 27th 2014_

At the tail end of yet another successful homeless dinner, Callie was being danced around the hall in a surprisingly coordinated waltz. There was a combination of leering and cheering happening from the crowd, some still tucking into seconds and thirds, others completely oblivious and playing card games across the messy tables.

Arizona was doubled over, laughing with a few women and taking a number of photos of Callie, with her phone. She earned a playful middle finger mid turn, for her efforts. "Must be your turn, Arizona!" she called out breathlessly, and the aging man, Frank, swiftly gathered Arizona without missing a beat.

"Five times State Champ," he said pleasingly, a firm palm to Arizona's back as she stumbled over his feet. Sober, choreographed dancing, was definitely not one of her skills although she had enjoyed Callie's more skilful effort.

"Not with me…as a partner," Arizona managed to gasp out, a couple of laughing yelps included.

"It's all in the lead," Frank responded, timely as Arizona stumbled and a number of voices told him to stop. "Oh, it just takes practise," he tried, but relented after a few more awkward steps.

With a hand to her chest and shaking her head, Arizona laughed and indicated to Callie. "You are clearly the dancer between us."

"Oh, but you're still pretty," Callie murmured cheerfully, receiving rolled eyes and a swat as she tried to embrace Arizona.

"You're very good," Frank continued, shoulders twitching and hands wringing now that he had stepped out of his well-rehearsed role. A side effect of the medication he took to treat his psychosis back in his youth; he was just a tired, slightly eccentric, burnt out schizophrenic now. That's what his hospital notes said, anyway; they also said to send him to a nursing home. He would rather die on the streets than be sedated for his last few years. "You would have made a good partner for me."

Callie nodded politely, aware that this man had served twenty years for murdering his dance partner well before his late twenties. "Think I'll stick to music thanks Franko," she placated, sharing a knowing glance with Arizona. He huffed before nodding and shuffled back to his seat, the same feet that seemed to float across the floor minutes before could barely become airborne with each step.

Life was indeed strange.

"Oi, yes, music! I brought m'e ukulele, love," a woman stated excitedly, rising to her feet. "And Bodo has his old guitar and Cart reckons he can play the keyboard. But where's young Nicholas, where's Nick the kid and his bongos?" Her voice was high pitched and rose and fell like a child's nursery rhyme.

Arizona narrowed her eyes and scanned from person to person, she wasn't sure she had seen Nick that night. He always came, to every single meal she had provided and had come to be a nice, helpful kid. She usually gave him a twenty for helping clear the plates. "Anyone seen, Nick?" she asked hopefully, but received only a quiet murmur in response. "Anyone? Who does he squat with?"

"He went off a few days ago," an awkward young boy explained between stutters; he tapped at his jaw constantly. "Dunno, said he got people to sort. Or see; then the cops came lookin' for him. Guess he'll be back or he's on the run."

Arizona gave a concerned glance at Callie but she only shrugged in return, she had no idea. Some of the people they had met came and went like the moon, showing up a month later as if no time had passed. Or they didn't return at all, having skipped town, breached parole or in a coroners office somewhere. That was the world that many went oblivious too, if they didn't see it each day than it didn't exist. Just ask any politician.

A discussion pursued around them then, speculation and theory as to what kind of kid Nick was and what he was into. All fabricated no doubt. After a few minutes, Callie cleared her throat and clapped her hands. "So, about this little performance we planned, everyone still in?"

"F'ark yes, Sunshine," the woman who noticed Nick missing declared dramatically, leaning back on her chair and howling. Callie simply shook her head and laughed lightly, sometimes she wondered how they had ended up such a part of this group. Slowly, they had learned to know them and built some rapport. Arizona was great at putting in the boundaries, keeping their behaviour acceptable and their dinners mostly trouble free whilst Callie was apt at building their morale and hearing their stories. She subtly linked them in with resources and supports, dropping case worker cards into pockets and maps for food vans under plates. They even had one of the community nurses call in before their dinners, and she changed dressings and did some assessments. She was working on getting a Doctor involved, prescribing rights would make a huge difference. They all pretended health insurance wasn't an issue.

So Callie had taken it upon herself to talk extensively about music, listening to voices and providing instruments for people to muck around on. And there were some gems there, years of skill that had gone unnoticed under the drugs, alcohol and mental illness. She had promised she would join them in performing a song for the group. A Van Morrison classic, as Janine, the woman who insisted on calling her Sunshine, had requested.

And they did, without their young bongo player, and to a roaring cheer from the group. Along with stamped feet and wolf whistles and Callie watched the performers swell with pride in front of her. In fact, it brought tears to her eyes.

It wasn't until they were half way through cleaning up that Callie paused, hands on her hips and dishcloth over her shoulder. "I'm getting soft," she declared and Arizona stilled to give her a quizzical glance. "Seeing their reaction to doing that song, it made me cry. I know, right?"

"Ohhhh," Arizona exclaimed quickly, closing her eyes and bowing her head before looking back at Callie, "I am so glad you said that. I was literally sniffling."

"My God, what is it? What are we turning into?"

Arizona laughed. "They just looked so happy, am I not right? I mean, how shit are these peoples' lives, and then they're taking a chance and a risk and it paid off. No one made fun of them, or even tried to; they were actually supportive. Did we do that? Have we helped make this an environment where people can feel good?"

Nodding, Callie caught Arizona around the waist and pulled her flush against her. "Yep, we've done some good. Well, you have, I've just tagged along for the ride."

"No way, you were amazing with them up there."

"And we kind of sounded okay."

"Yeah, what I could hear above my sniffles."

Callie chuckled and tightened her hold; she kissed Arizona in a long, seductive embrace before leaning back, arms still wrapped around her. Tearful blue eyes gazed abashedly back and Callie smiled, "Okay, so you're soft too."

Rolling her eyes, Arizona leaned back into the kiss and let her fingers tangle in Callie's loose thick hair, messy over her neck and shoulders.

Nothing had ever felt so right in her life.

Exhausted, Callie groaned and climbed over Arizona, where she sat on the bed in the small retreat at the back of the café. They had stopped in to drop off supplies after closing up at the hall. "I'm not sure I can move to actually get home," Callie murmured, magazine falling from under her arm to her lap as she twisted and slumped against the pillows. Her legs fell heavily over Arizona and she rubbed them soothingly.

"Me too," she agreed quietly.

"I suddenly see the appeal of a personal masseuse; we could be having our feet…" Callie said, trailing off when Arizona suddenly cursed under her breath. "What? What's wrong?"

Arizona grabbed the magazine off Callie's lap and shook her head vehemently at the front cover. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Callie peered curiously at the image, some unknown couple smiling sickeningly sweetly in a posed wedding shoot. "Should that mean something to me, hun?"

"Do they think people are stupid?" Arizona fumed, and a flush of red started to edge up her neck.

"Ummm…"

"Because they're not; and this is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. Of all the fucking insane things…" A continuous string of expletives was dripping from Arizona's mouth; words Callie had seldom heard her use. She punched the air and her thigh, shaking her head continuously, eyes darting from the magazine cover to the wall and back again.

"Okay," Callie said calmly, trying to cover Arizona closed fist but it was yanked away, "it's just a tabloid, and generally not even accurate. Who cares about ummm, the _real life wedding bells_ for whoever they are?"

A low growl husked out from deep within Arizona's throat. "I'm sorry okay," she muttered, lifting Callie's legs and getting to her feet. "I'm sorry, and I'll explain but I just, I just need to calm down. I know I'm reacting and it's nothing to do with you and I'm being fucking nuts." She leant down to distractedly press a kiss to Callie's lips, though her arms were trembling when Callie shadowed them. "'Cause this is just…I can't deal with this right now."

"Arizona? What the fuck?"

"I'm so sorry, and I'll be back, I will. I promise." Arizona could feel the uncontrollable parts of herself simmering and she needed to walk and breathe and not be around Callie, who she knew she could inadvertently hurt with her angry unfiltered words. And she wasn't angry with Callie; she wasn't angry with anyone. But still, she felt furious, that kind of primal irrational response that was all wrapped up in history.

The bits of her past that she had swept aside and superficially dealt with that clearly, came back to haunt her at the worst possible times.

When she was just starting to build something with Callie; and they were good, really good.

And this wasn't going to screw it up, she just needed space and a few gulps of air and a drink. She needed a Goddamn drink.

The music was loud on the dance floor, and where Arizona positioned herself, right next to a speaker, it was down right deafening. She couldn't hear a single lyric, nor could she even make out if the woman dancing with her was even speaking. She wasn't sure she even knew who it was; Callie didn't come with her, so it was some stranger.

Another stranger in a club; but this time, it wasn't right. She didn't want to do that anymore.

And she wondered, in her, five shots in ten minutes, confused intoxicated state, why the fuck she was even there.

Thin wet lips assaulted hers and they tasted of stale cigarettes and tequila tinged with garlic. When she pushed the woman away, her fingers dug into exposed ribs and she wanted to run again. Away from the bar and the scantily dressed blonde that was slurring vulgarity into her ear, just single words that she caught as the music beat an ache through her head.

"Fuck off," she muttered, not that a single soul could have heard her and she blinks to locate the exit.

The dance floor is packed, with sweaty desperate women and the occasional aroused leering man. She fights past them, jutting her elbow and sliding under raised arms and moving bodies. By the time she reached the exit, her arm was coated in sticky fluid; rum by the odour.

Disappearing into the dark night, Arizona wound through alleyways and past teenagers making out in parked cars and makeshift homes made out of blue tarp. She got lost momentarily, taking a few minutes to find her way back to a road and orientate herself, the cool air taking the edge off the sickness in her stomach.

And then she felt the surge of familiarity at her view of Callie's apartment block, the same half alive plants and cracked sidewalk out front.

It only took two knocks before the door swung wildly open and Callie's face greeted her with a combination of worry and frustration and expectation.

Arizona cupped her mouth and burst into tears.

She didn't want to; she had no intention of crying, yet she did, all the same.

The stillness felt right, for just a moment. Arizona only a small step outside the doorway, face buried in her hands and shoulders quietly trembling; and Callie, watching, waiting; processing.

"Come on," Callie said, voice husky and fingers soft and gentle where they curled around Arizona's forearms and tugged her inside. She hugged her first, arms around her and caressing her back, and through the damp blonde curls at her neck. Arizona, still with her face covered learnt into Callie's shoulder, hauntingly silent in her cries.

It was a devastating sight, the muffled sounds of muted sobs; as if it hurt to breathe but the shame and fear spread a cloak of silence.

"Sit down, Arizona," Callie commanded, assertive yet feather light into her delivery, and Arizona followed her instruction. Kissing the fingers pressed into her eyes, Callie thumbed the back of her palms. "Have some water."

"I'm so fucking stupid," Arizona grated out, syllables tight and low, breathy.

"Mmmm," Callie murmured, neither agreeing nor disagreeing and holding a glass of cool water to Arizona's lips as she finally revealed her blotchy, stained face. She smelt unmistakably of alcohol, though it seemed to come from her clothes and skin rather than her breath. Callie tipped the rim so cool water filled Arizona's mouth; a drink she poured for herself only minutes early. She couldn't recall even taking a sip. "Just drink."

Taking a few consecutive, slow mouthfuls, Arizona swallowed. She watched Callie place the glass on the floor and kneel on the floor, two hands on Arizona's thighs where she sat on the sofa. The silence felt comfortable to Callie, she could wait as long as it took; the quietness didn't faze her. Arizona felt anxious though, pressured and she leant forward to eagerly force her tongue though Callie's full lips and her hands pressed open palmed to Callie's chest.

"No," Callie whispered softly, gentle taking Arizona's hands from her breasts and holding them, fingers entwining. She kissed Arizona's cheek tenderly and gave a small smile. "Not now, you don't need to do that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Arizona sighed, eyes to the ceiling and back; slowly, deliberately. "She's my ex."

Eyes widening, Callie opened her mouth twice before settling on an encouraging hum.

"From the magazine."

"With the guy?" Callie asked immediately, before toning back her shocked response. "I'm guessing there's a whole story to go with this?"

"I'm not…please don't think this is about her or, anything like that. It's just,"

"Complicated?"

"Sorry."

"We're gonna have to ban that word, you know that, right? _Complicated._ "

Finally, Callie elicited a tiny smile from Arizona, a tearful single shudder of her shoulders; a half giggle of sorts. "Yeah," Arizona exhaled.

Callie smiled warmly and keeping one hand with a tight hold on Arizona's, pushed a jacket and book across the couch to make room. She sat next to Arizona and pulled her against her chest. "Fill me in…"

Feeling a kiss brush into her hair, Arizona relaxed slightly, becoming aware of the stickiness of her skin and smell of smoke on her clothes. "I smell revolting," she acknowledged after a moment and Callie nodded her agreement.

"Did you fall into a vat of alcohol?"

"Not quite, but I did try to make a hasty exit from _Vics_ , no idea what I was thinking. No, that's right, I was thinking that my ex is suddenly front page and marrying her co-star."

"Yeah, so, what is the go? It's probably not the point, but did you know she was bi?"

"She's not _bi_ ," Arizona muttered back, mid-exhalation.

"She's not?"

"No, not even remotely; he's her cover – her fake boyfriend or whatever. It's one of the reasons, many reasons actually, we separated."

"Do people really still do that?"

"All the time. Too much actually; Ellen has only achieved so much for showbiz lesbians."

Callie stifled a laugh. "And you knew she had this 'boyfriend', though I get we're using that term loosely."

"Husband now."

"And she feels nothing? She's not bi, they're not actually together."

Arizona shrugged. "I don't know, she started to convince herself that she could make it work. And then they put them together on the show and I don't know, she went pretty crazy."

"And she's prepared to live a lie, for her entire career?"

"Exactly, I don't know. It was shit really, our relationship…initially we were fairly out there, going for dinners and to clubs. But then her career took off and she was getting primetime spots, and then series regular. Suddenly people were interested and she refused to be seen in public, we ordered in and hid everything. She took her 'boy' to awards nights and interviews; I was meant to sit by and watch."

"And she expected that to be okay? No offense, but _crazy much?_ "

"Oh I agree, she went psycho. I would have phone messages and texts that said she loved me and telling me we would be together, if I was patient. But then, because some people knew obviously, because we were together, on and off, for a couple of years, she started spreading all this shit about me stalking her. Being obsessed with her, just irrational stuff. She was obsessed with this idea of being famous and having everyone think she's conventional and admirable."

"And now she's married the fantasy?"

"Looks like it, huh?"

Callie nodded slowly, tenderly running her fingers through Arizona's hair. "And you thought one day she would change her mind? Tell you that she made a mistake and she wanted you back?"

Breath catching, Arizona considered the question. "I don't think so," she murmured, tilting her head up and blue eyes widely gazing up at Callie. "I don't want her to, and told her that very clearly the last time I saw her. She's not a bad person, and I hoped, wished maybe, that she would realise that she can be who she is. Now I sound like the crazy one."

"You care, Arizona."

Slowly, Arizona nodded. "It's hard to know someone well and see their life consumed by a lie."

"And you hadn't thought about her in a while…"

"A long while."

"Do you miss that world? Regret leaving it?"

"No," Arizona answered quickly, "I'm happy with where I am. It brought you into my life, right?"

Grinning, Callie offered a cheeky expression. "Into your _complicated_ life?"

"Humph. I hope I'm worth it." Snuggling tighter into Callie, Arizona swiped at her stained face before wrapping an arm around Callie's abdomen. She fit perfectly into the curve of her arm.

"I'm thinking, yes," Callie whispered, chin on the top of Arizona's head. "And this next question should sound far more seductive than it's about to, but, you wouldn't object to a shower would you?"

Rising off Callie, Arizona pushed herself away and brought her arm up to her nose. She screwed her face up. "Awful, I'm so sorry. And rum, revolting."

"Nothing some almond body wash won't fix."

"Oh, that does sound a little more of an invitation," Arizona teased.

"What?" Callie asked, feigning shock. "You want me to apply it?"

Grinning, Arizona nodded eagerly and fell heavily back on Callie to engage her in a long, sensual kiss. The long night slowly fading into a distant memory, distracted.

With a barely audible, husky voice, Callie stopped where she kissed her way up to suck lightly on Arizona's earlobe. "Shower, now."

 **TBC…**

 **Chapter 12: Comeback Story**

 **AN:** Hi everyone! I hope you're all having a fabulous pre-festive season time. I'm so sorry for the delay in having this part posted, I'm on vacation and have spent a few too many days walking the streets of SF, giving my credit card a workout and snoozing through one very long flight…and ultimately, not enough writing. :-) But the chilly weather you US lot are having has finally sent me inside so here's an update for you.

Thank you so much for all the continued reading and reviews and favourites/alerts etc. Sorry for those that I haven't had a chance to reply to, but thank you so much, I love hearing your thoughts. Thanks.

 **Chapter Eleven: Comeback Story**

 _ **Sometimes**_

 _ **We see in others**_

 _ **What we fear**_

 _ **Has become**_

 _ **Our own**_

 _ **Truth**_

Walking down the street, fingers entwined with someone she craved day and night, felt light to Callie.

As strange as that might sound.

But it seemed to her, as if her steps held more of a bounce and she smiled at people walking past; dropped coins into the occasional unfamiliar busker on the street corner. If she really thought about it, and tried to put a time frame on it, it had been years since she had felt so comfortable.

So happy.

Turning her head, mid-way across an intersection, she pressed a fleeting kiss to Arizona's cheek. It was messy and a little uncoordinated; it was the way they fit together - a bit chaotic and awkward, but somehow full of tenderness and affection.

Arizona smiled at her, leaning into Callie's side as they walked. In a moment of exhaustion, Arizona had decided to employ a manager for the café rather than just the young wait staff. And surprisingly, it was working out well. This was the third complete day off they had both had since he started.

Matthew, they had both decided, was worth his weight in gold. He was youngish, in his early thirties and a New York born but London raised, traveller. He was settling in the city for two years, finishing up a Doctoral degree in a specific type of structural engineering. The blank expressions on both Arizona and Callie's faces were transparent any time he mentioned the specifics, but they politely nodded just the same.

It didn't matter what he was studying, he ran that café like a dream. _He's better than me,_ Arizona had whispered to Callie on day two, and contrary to Callie's generous protests, she was excited about the concept. She wouldn't have ever felt comfortable leaving it in substandard hands.

"Oh," Callie exclaimed suddenly and Arizona's fingers tightened sporadically at the sudden interruption to the daze they were separately in.

"Mmmm?"

"Frozen yogurt…That is exactly what I'm craving."

"You were having cravings?"

"Well, not really, not until I just saw it. Come on," Callie said, grinning, pulling Arizona across the road. "Besides," she added, "I need to butter you up. I have a _huge_ favour to ask which definitely requires some sort of chocolatey topping."

"Ahhh," Arizona laughed, "so not so much a craving as a bribe? Calliope, you're so transparent."

"Maybe," Callie responded teasingly, she playfully wrapped her arms around Arizona's shoulders as they pushed through the doors. She nuzzled into her neck, chin kneading into the muscles whilst they contemplated the menu. "Oreo crumbles? Sprinkles? Tell me you're not thinking fruit."

"You're like a child in a candy store," Arizona murmured and the young girl behind the counter laughed lightly at them.

"Fruit is a bit boring," she chimed in, cheerfully, "so I'm with her, go something really good. Besides, the yogurt is good for you."

"Yeah, so cancels out the toppings, right?" Callie countered, winking at the girl.

"Definitely."

"Okay okay," Arizona conceded, "at no point did I say I was having fruit, can I just point out. You're overestimating me. I'm going with French Vanilla yoghurt and a crap load of white and dark chocolate crumbs please."

"Times two," Callie added, "but I'll have Raspberry yogurt please."

Turning a little in Callie's loose hold, Arizona poked her in the side. "I hope you know you're paying."

"Totally," Callie agreed, jumping back and digging in her pocket before handing over two five-dollar bills.

"And…" Arizona prompted, earning a blank expression; they slowly made their way to a table. "Your favour? I think I need to know before I eat this, I might want to return it."

Callie chuckled lightly. "You have no faith in me. It's nothing really, just that my father is in town tonight and he wants to catch up."

Resisting the urge to groan heavily, Arizona simply screwed her face up and nodded.

"But I have that set, at the club…"

"Ohhhh, no," Arizona started protesting quickly, shaking her head vehemently. "No, no, no way Callie."

"What? Just babysit him by the bar, refill his whisky and talk about how awesome my music is."

"Nah ah, nope."

"Arizona," Callie whined, spoonful in her mouth.

"Don't use that tone," Arizona moaned back, "I'm not babysitting your father. I don't _do_ parents."

"It'll be for less than hour, he'll be quiet and low maintenance. And besides, you'll be old friends by the time dinner is over."

Arizona almost spat out her mouthful. "Dinner!"

"Did I not mention that?"

"Calliope, stop. Really, I'm not parent meeting material…what the hell am I meant to talk to your father about?"

"He's easy to get along with hun, I promise. And you're amazing…how would he not adore you? What's not to adore? Actually, I think he might end up liking you more than me, you're all mature and have your life together."

Arizona scoffed. "Yeah, completely." She bowed her head and grumbled, "Callie…"

"It'll be fine."

"I _really_ don't want to."

"I can tell."

"Do I have to?" she asked childishly, as if she was being asked to wear pink fluffy dress when she was five.

Callie shrugged but smiled. "I can hardly make you," she conceded, "but I'm serious Arizona, my dad is fine and he does this like once or twice a year. Comes to town for a work meeting and then has dinner with me and then disappears again. It works and it's easy and you, there is not a chance that he won't love you."

Rolling her eyes, Arizona settled into a long stare across the room. "You owe me," she acknowledged.

Beaming, Callie nodded enthusiastically, leaning across the table to grip Arizona's chin and kiss her intensely. "Whatever you like."

"So much more than frozen yogurt."

"Just name it."

Arizona shook her head. "Nope, this one I'm keeping in reserve."

"Okay," Callie murmured; she kissed the tip of Arizona's nose before tapping it with her finger. "Thank you."

"Humph."

"Oh come on, don't be so dramatic."

"I hate you."

"Yep, I'm getting that." Callie's smile was so wide that Arizona eventually shook her head and laughed lightly. She couldn't quite believe Callie had managed to convince her to meet her father, not once had she met a girlfriend's parents.

Not once.

"After all these years, I was concerned that she may have lost her touch. But she still has it, hasn't she?"

Arizona coughed nervously and nodded. "Your daughter is very talented, Sir."

He laughed and the ice in his whiskey glass cluttered together. "Are you always this nervous Arizona, or is it just my presence?"

Blushing, Arizona sipped from her wine glass, after having water with dinner; she was desperate for the calming influence of a beverage or two. Callie's father was just as talkative as Callie had assured her he was, but still, she couldn't quite lose the self-conscious thoughts in her head. She had told herself just too many times that she was not the kind of woman that sat at family dinners and Thanksgiving celebrations. "I'm sorry," she murmured politely, trying to force a smile on her face.

He nodded and smiled, even reaching a hand out to briefly touch her shoulder. "It's been a long time since I've seen Calliope this happy, this…well adjusted. I can only assume it's your influence and I have to admit, the way she speaks about you. You are certainly nothing like that God awful woman she was with a while back."

Arizona swallowed heavily and nodded, taking a few extra sips from her glass. She knew a little about Callie's ex, the one from the band but she hadn't sought the details and Callie certainly hadn't offered them. Still, she pretended to know more than she did; for reasons she wasn't even sure of. "I would hope so."

"I tell you, if I had the chance to lay my hands on the little bitch."

Arizona coughed, and when she looked up, Callie's father was grinning at her. His smile was just like Callie's, wide and expressive. "Father's prerogative, right?"

"That it is," he agreed, "that it is." They quietened for a few minutes, watching Callie perform one of her quieter, slower songs; beautifully soulful. "Mmmm," he said, turning his head to Arizona, "I'm so happy she has her life back on track. This is the little girl I remember."

Arizona glanced at him curiously, nodding slowly as she placed her empty glass on the bar. "She's an incredible performer."

"And I have to say," he said slowly, "I appreciate your support of her sobriety."

Arizona raised her eyebrows, glancing to her empty wine and back again. "Ummmm," she hesitantly murmured, confused.

"Oh, I meant at dinner. The times when it's hard for her to stay on track; that's what they always said, that she needed to surround herself with people who supported her rather than enticed her into their lifestyle." Arizona could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "I don't expect you to be an angel, Arizona; obviously you drink and that's okay. But we both know how drugs and alcohol can get out of control for Calliope; too many times to count I've bundled that girl into rehab."

"She hasn't talked about it a lot," Arizona admitted honestly, and she propped her head up with her hand, elbow on the table. She raised wide blue eyes to curiously peer at Carlos. "But I understand there were some tough times."

"People think they understand addiction," he muttered, finishing his own drink and raising two fingers to the bar staff to refill their drinks, "but until you've sat by the bedside of your daughter in intensive care, seen her bruised and battered, and on life support….well, you don't understand until then. No parent should have to see that and I just thank God that she's found her way now. With you."

Feeling a slow flood of anxiety spread through her body and settle in her stomach, Arizona again nodded slowly as if she had full understanding of the details of Callie's past. She had clearly underestimated the, _in and out of rehab_ , explanation that Callie had offered. She had almost died, at least once, possibly more by the pained look on her father's face. "I understand addiction particularly well," Arizona offered quietly, "my family had some…problems." Whatever made her share that truth, she had no idea.

Carlos slid her refilled wine across the table and eyed her curiously, assessing her. There was something he liked about Arizona; he respected the nervousness she obviously felt around him, as a new partner should in meeting the patriarch. He also appropriately assessed her as a caring, yet considered woman; she had seen some things in her time and it was all still integrating in her mind. She was working things out, slowly and with great deliberation. "I always tried to teach my daughters that they can become someone despite and because of their past, not as victims. Sometimes I have succeeded, at other times, not so much. This one," he said, nodding to the small stage, "she's always gone two steps forward and ten back. All heart, not so much fear."

Looking up, Arizona met Callie's eyes and she smiled weakly, just detecting a slight frown of concern on Callie's forehead. "You should be proud, Callie is an amazing person, Mr Torres."

"She always has been," he agreed with a single, slow nod and raising his index finger between them. "And with you," he continued, "she'll keep her life on track. I'm trusting you with that, Arizona."

Again, a feeling of discomfort settled in Arizona's abdomen and she shifted in her seat as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She knew that Callie wasn't as 'sober' as Carlos believed and that was essentially none of her business. As someone who didn't even have contact with her own parents, she wasn't for a second going to criticise Callie for the limitations on her honesty. But, there were aspects of her life that she had exposed Callie to; invited her in to be a part of. And the risk it seemed was so much worse than Callie had ever offered.

"I'll try to protect her," Arizona said quietly and it was barely heard over Callie's singing, yet Carlos heard every hesitant syllable.

He shook his head. "No," he said strongly, staring Arizona in the eyes; she squirmed under the intensity. "You will do more than try."

Exhaling, Arizona could do little more than nod to the man beside her. She kept nodding, as she looked away, absentmindedly continually to affirm her agreement. She didn't feel so confident.

Arizona didn't talk about the conversation she had with Callie's father; she wanted to, but each delay strategy seemed almost too effective. At first, she wanted to wait until the next morning, to sleep on things and let them both get some rest. But then the café was chaotic and it was all hands on deck; later that afternoon a pipe burst and the evening filled with over priced plumbers on horrendous call out fees. The next day, Callie was tired and grumpy, having a headache that pounded at her temples and she still had to do a shift at the bar when they were short staffed.

Somehow, three days passed, yet it gnawed at Arizona like the constant annoying buzz of a mosquito in her ear. She was stressed and worried; tired too from too much thinking and not enough time sleeping.

Hearing Callie's heavy knock on her door, she looked in the mirror and pulled a folded tissue from her left nostril. It was stained with fresh blood and a slow trickle ran from her nose as she watched. "Fuck," she muttered, tears filling her eyes. It was the first time she had used in two weeks and it wasn't having the desired effect; in fact, after thirty minutes, she felt irritated and over alert, as if the walls were closing in on her and each noise amplified. Her eyes darted to the corners of the bathroom and she had awareness that she was being irrational, but she was uncomfortable and strangely fearful. Of nothing; there was nothing to be scared of yet she felt frightened all the same.

And her nose wouldn't stop bleeding; and Callie was at the door.

Grinding her teeth, she walked through her apartment and opened the door, turning quickly away and leaving Callie without a greeting. "Hey," Callie acknowledged automatically, stepping inside and closing the door when Arizona padded away. "Okay," she articulated slowly. "Right," she acknowledged a second later, observing Arizona with a fresh wad of tissues pressed under her nose. "You okay there?"

Arizona glanced sideways at her, pupils so wide that only the smallest sliver of blue rimmed them. "Sorry," she offered, dropping her head and checking the Kleenex.

"Oh God," Callie quickly exclaimed, dropping her bag and rushing forward, "that's a lot of blood." In evidence, a drop of thick crimson fluid pooled and dropped to Arizona's hand, she groaned and swayed. "Shit Arizona, come on before you pass out."

Reacting promptly, Callie grabbed a drying cloth from the kitchen bench with one hand whilst she fisted Arizona's shirt at her back. Supporting her as she pushed Arizona towards a long leather bench seat, Callie kicked at a few stray cushions with her foot and sat Arizona down on the vacated space. She slumped into Callie's side and moaned a few incomprehensible words.

"What are you doing, huh?" Callie asked gently, cloth held to Arizona's face and her other hand smoothing her hair down her back. "It's after eight."

Arizona closed her eyes and looked miserable; her face was pale and blotchy and arms limp at her side. "I've been cutting down," she whispered after a few moments.

"Yeah? Well that probably explains _some_ of this, then."

The energy in her body was conflicting; one part of her was drained of energy and her head felt faint yet she kept flicking her eyes open and closed, convinced there was something or someone moving along the walls of her apartment; hiding in corners.

Callie followed her eyes a few times and shook her head to the vacant room. "It's okay, there's no one here. You're alright, sweetie."

"I know," Arizona muttered back, just short of snapping the reply; she wasn't insane. Resting heavily against Callie, she mumbled occasionally, losing herself in the silence and trying to focus on the rhythmic tender touch running up and down her spine.

"So…" Callie began as time passed and the blood flow reduced to just smudges on the material. Every minute or two, Callie checked it and used a fresh section. "I might just make us something to eat here, hey? Skip the dinner out?"

Dragging her body away from Callie's, Arizona leant on her knees and rubbed at her face, trying to clear her head. Time had lost some significance to her and the air dried hair that fell around her face felt heavy and strange; she had obviously not blow dried it as planned. Her skin was make-up free too, and Callie thought for the first time that she looked weathered; tired and worn out and in need of a holiday. "Sorry Call."

Callie waved the apology away. "You okay?" she asked softly, rubbing Arizona's bare arm, dressed only in a camisole and jeans. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah," Arizona said through a sigh. "Yeah," she added a moment later, more convincingly.

"I thought your suppliers were more the purist," she observed curiously, pointing out that some side effects were minimised by avoiding the crack dealers.

"If only it was that simple, huh?"

"True." Callie leant in and kissed the curve of Arizona's shoulder. "You scared me a little."

Leaning back to the wall, Arizona offered a sad smile and rested an open palm on Callie's thigh. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, still feeling her heart beat racing and imaginary flashes in the corner of her vision. "You shouldn't be here for this…this isn't something I want you to see."

"Well, I know you use Arizona and I'm kind of around a lot."

"You shouldn't be."

Callie laughed and squeezed Arizona's hand. "Yes honey, whatever you say."

Arizona reached for her though when she went to stand up, grabbing awkwardly at her wrist and tugging her back. A deathly serious expression stared back at her and Callie let the laugh fade. "This isn't good for you."

"I think you have that confused, it isn't good for you."

"No," Arizona insisted, raking her hands through her hair. " _I'm_ not good for you."

"To the contrary, you're very good for me," Callie retaliated, leaning forward as if to kiss Arizona, in evidence. A hand centred on her chest and pushed her away. "Arizona, you're talking crazy."

"Your dad told me some stuff Callie, and you shouldn't be exposed to my lifestyle."

"Ahhh," Callie murmured in realisation, sighing. "Firstly, how very formal of you… _exposed to my lifestyle_." Arizona narrowed her eyes in response; she wasn't joking. "Secondly, the choices I make are mine. Not Dad's, mine. I can only imagine what he's told you."

" _You_ never told me, Callie."

"What? That I've been to rehab? I did actually, it's not something I hide."

"No, how bad it was. You never told me that you almost died, that's about as bad as it gets."

"And did he tell you I was nineteen when that happened? Fucking hell, as much as I love my family, they're still telling the same stories like it happened last week." Callie shook her head, she was annoyed but not fazed; her family had been amazingly supportive over the years but there was a reason she only saw them a couple of times a year.

"Nineteen?"

"Yup, a teenager."

"And what about rehab?" Arizona asked, glancing over her shoulder; she was struggling to dismiss the edge from her high.

"What about it? When?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously hun, you want to talk about this now? 'Cause I just came in to find you about to pass out with blood pouring from your nose after snorting cocaine. Are you genuinely going to lecture me tonight?"

Arizona closed her eyes and when she opened them, they glistened with a film of tears. "I'm a bad influence Callie, really bad. I don't want to be responsible for you going back to that place."

"Wow, my father really did guilt you, didn't he? Look, hey, hey," Callie insisted, palming Arizona's face when she dropped her gaze. "I haven't been in rehab since my early twenties, honestly, no matter what Dad said. That's the truth. He wants me to be sober Arizona, completely, because he still sees me as that nineteen year old in an ICU bed. And fair enough, but the reality is that I'm not that stupid kid anymore."

"He thinks you completely abstain, even from alcohol."

Callie sighed and tucked pieces of hair behind Arizona's ears. She smoothed it down. "Because I let him think that, it's easier. Gutless, but easier. I promise you, I know my limits. And yes, every nutter with an addiction will say that, but have you at any point been worried about me?"

Smiling for the first time, Arizona shrugged. "I'm always worried about you."

"I have to admit, I kind of like that," Callie teased, hand coming to rest at the back of Arizona's neck. "You can tell me you know, if you think I'm too close to the line. That I'm losing control, you can tell me. It's been a long time since I have, but I trust you; you can tell me."

Arizona slowly shook her head. "No," she murmured, "I haven't thought that. It was just everything that your father said."

"Well, I'm kind of sorry he ranted at you. I guess you were new to him and he was in a bit of a, _don't fuck with my kid,_ mode."

"He's nice, protective."

"Him and I, we have that in common."

"Yeah?"

Callie smiled and nodded. "Yeah." She stroked her thumb along skin of Arizona's neck, running up the muscles and to the base of her skull, amongst her hair. "What if I turned this conversation around?" Callie asked softly, and Arizona glanced sideways at her. "'Cause Arizona, I think you're too close to the line," she whispered.

Immediately, Arizona's eyes filled with tears again and she hastily blinked them away before nodding slowly. "Maybe," she scraped out through a constricted throat.

"Too close," Callie repeated, kissing her temple and cheek. "Tonight, was too close to the line."


	2. Chapter 12

**AN:** By some miracle, during a clean up of a very old laptop, I have both found the Dark Notes file and my motivation to finish this.

The problem for all of you is that it is so old, no one will even remember it (except a couple of very lovely readers who have messaged me - thank you). And, you can't even find it here as it is on my Authors Tune account here, which you may recall has locked me out because I know zero details of my registered email or password. Should you wish you read the previous 11 Chapters, please search Dark Notes or look up under Authors Tu **ne. I'm so sorry about that.**

If you do remember - here goes the start of the rest of the fic. :-)

 **Chapter Twelve: Beautiful Mess**

 _What is that_

 _On your heart_

 _Of hearts_

 _Splattered with fear_

 _Cased in_

 _Iron_

 _She can't stand beside you_

 _Unless you try_

A thin duvet was pulled up high over Arizona's shoulders where she lay sleeping on her side. Her hands gripped the covers in two fists, curled underneath her chin in an effort to ward off the cold from the air conditioner she had set far too low. Callie rolled over, lifting herself briefly to squint at the bedside clock, and at eight in the morning, she was thrilled that Arizona had slept in. The café was in capable hands.

Snaking an arm over Arizona's waist, Callie curled into her back and pressed a flow of light kisses to the curve of her shoulder. Arizona exhaled and leant back, tangled blonde hair tickling at Callie's cheek.

Stirring intermittently over the course of a few minutes, Arizona muttered under her breath and released soft murmurs as she slowly roused into consciousness. "Morning," she eventually mumbled, voice husky.

"Good morning beautiful," Callie responded quickly, smiling as she grazed her nose along Arizona's shoulder blade. "You're sleepy this morning."

"Mmmm," Arizona responded, releasing her grip on the sheets to tug Callie's hand to her chest. "Can we stay here all day?"

Callie chuckled lightly. "Without coffee?"

"Ohhhh," Arizona acknowledged sleepily, "can't we order that in or something?"

"To the bedroom?"

Laughing, Arizona dipped her chin to kiss Callie's fingers. "I see nothing wrong with that plan."

"How about a compromise? As in, we don't leave the _apartment_ all day? I'll volunteer to make the first coffee."

"You're volunteering? How long have you been awake for? You're freaking me out," Arizona teased, laughing. She earned a tap on her shoulder from Callie's chin.

"I may have been awake for a little longer than you, I was kind of liking watching you sleep."

"Stalker," Arizona shot back quickly.

"Hey now, you can make your own coffee at this rate!"

"Nooooo, nooooo. You win; excellent plan but I really need to call in to work and make sure everything is running smoothly."

Callie shook her head and groaned. "They're fine Arizona, they need to actually be able to cope with having the place to themselves all day. You need a day off."

"A whole day off?"

"Yup, one complete day, completely off." Callie laughed. "I can feel the stress emanating from you already."

Arizona rolled on to her back, fingers wrapped around Callie's forearm where it came to rest heavy on her abdomen. "No, it's just I need to go over the orders for next week and do some menu planning for the next dinner we're doing…"

"And to check in on your staff…" Callie continued, trailing off as Arizona did.

"You're picking on me."

"Ah huh, certainly am."

"Mean."

"Fun."

"Fine," Arizona conceded quickly, honestly, in that moment she wanted to spend the next year in a cacoon in bed; with coffee. "But I'm taking you up on the offer to make the first coffee."

Grinning, Callie nodded eagerly. "On to it," she agreed, squeezing Arizona and kissing her temple before sliding out from under the covers. She didn't bother to dress, padding out to the kitchen in a pair of simple grey panties and nothing else. A cursory glance in the fridge yielded few results, but at least the milk was still within date; a minor miracle in Arizona's apartment. Not that hers was any better.

There was very little she could create for breakfast out of a jar of olives, three lemons and a few fillets of frozen salmon. Finishing two coffees, she practised her latte art with two simple leaves and figured she would phone the café later on to have some food dropped by. Plenty of options there.

Heading back to Arizona, Callie adjusted the thermostat on the way and grinned; Arizona was sitting up against the headboard, breakfast television on in the background and her bare chest on display. "Quite the image," Callie noted, placing Arizona's mug on the bedside table and leaning down to kiss her. She gave a fleeting thought to their morning breath, comforted by the fact that neither them seemed to mind.

Arizona gave a wry smile, reaching up to catch Callie by the elbow and tugging her back for another brief kiss. "That's a thank you for the coffee," she insisted, tongue tracing along the length of Callie's lower lip. She earned a smile against her mouth and long eyelashes fluttered over the curve of her cheekbone.

"I think I could forget about my coffee if you want to keep thanking me," Callie teased, screwing her nose up when Arizona repositioned herself and reached for her steaming mug. She cupped both hands around the porcelain and offered a cheeky grin. "Fine, I'm holding you to that hint though."

"I so need this," Arizona said after a moment, sipping the warm liquid, "I feel wrecked."

Callie furrowed her brows. "Surely you're not surprised?"

A sudden realisation flashed across Arizona's face. "Oh," she said quietly, eyes focussed back on her coffee. "Ummm…did I do anything wrong last night?"

"You don't remember hey?"

Arizona shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, yeah. I do, mostly. We stayed in and we had planned to go out but I just don't quite remember all the detail."

Smiling softly, Callie nodded. "Which is exactly why I told you I was worried about you, last night."

"You shouldn't worry," Arizona countered immediately, automatically almost without hearing the intent and the emotion in Callie's words. "I was meant to be protecting you, I remember that conversation."

It was clever the way she steered the conversation, although not exactly subtle. Callie let it pass, she had pushed enough and had a deep awareness that there was a careful balance needed when it came to Arizona. "Yes, my father infiltrated your common sense. He has a way of doing that. Pity he didn't have the same fervour when it came to other people's wrongdoing, just mine. Weird how family feels comfortable to just crucify their own."

"I didn't get too much of a critical feel from him, more…desperately caring. Scared even."

"He thinks I'm a screw up, he does. I know that and it's okay. He even thought my ex was more…what word did he once use… _mature,_ than me."

"Delightful," Arizona murmured sarcastically. "From my experience, it's useful to have some people on your side when you're in the industry."

Callie laughed. "I haven't a great track record with keeping people in my corner. Or even getting them there to start with. And the industry is just shit."

"Preaching to the converted," Arizona said, dropping her head sideways to look at Callie and smiling. A scowl met her gaze.

"Seriously, I don't even understand it still. It's all about money, not about who gets treaded on in the process. I was genuinely nice to them, I was constantly herbed up so hardly a threat and they just discarded me. Fucked me over. Do you know they even changed contractual details behind the scenes, so that I couldn't even contest it. An added line at like dot point number fifty eight in minuscule font. Of course, I didn't actually keep any contracts so how would I know if it was there when I signed it. Could have been, might not have. It didn't matter, they all got together and you can't fight a group can you? You can't stand out in that fucked up world and go, hey, wait, it's not _right_ to treat me like this?" Callie stopped and exhaled a lengthy breath. "Fuck 'em. I'm better without any of them in my life. I don't need them, I thought I did but I don't. It's simpler now, you're not involved in any of that. We don't have to live and breath music and performing. I like that we make coffee and meals and we talk about stupid stuff - politics and policies. All of that."

Arizona pressed a soft kiss to Callie's shoulder. She wasn't always good with words, but she wasn't crazy either. She knew when affection was needed and gentleness and kindness. Callie craved that stuff and Arizona found it irresistible yet so confronting. "It's hard to find the good ones, in that world. They're there, I've seen them but God it's hard to find them. And this way, you stumbled into mine, so we can't hate on it too much."

Callie smiled and sunk back on her pillows, energy dissipating. "I'm gonna need dinner out and a drink tonight. What do you think?"

...

Callie sat on a stool in a bar, one arm on a high circular table and the other wrapped around Arizona's waist, holding her back flush against her body. Arizona leaned heavily, shifting her weight where she stood positioned between Callie's legs, eyes drifting around the crowd. "That one?" Callie asked, conspicuously pointing a finger towards a blond woman, telling an elaborate story to her friends, hands gesturing wildly.

"Hmmm. Nah, too vivacious. I don't do conversation."

"Come on, Arizona. I've pointed out about five women and you say none of them are your type. What is it that you look for on these…one night stands?"

"I don't know," Arizona said, shrugging. "I don't have a type."

"Well, if I wasn't here, who would you go for?"

"Probably some drunk who came on to me on the dance floor," Arizona said, laughing. She swallowed the remainder of her gin and tonic. They had ordered gin when they came into the bar after their restaurant meal and bottle of red.

"Is it that you pursue them or something about it being a stranger?"

"Maybe, the chase kind of, with no strings. I've tended to find it easier to just have sex rather than manage all the _stuff_ that goes along with a relationship. And it's an outlet, I mean, sex is an awesome release."

Callie nodded slowly, chin scraping over Arizona's shoulder. Her breath moved Arizona's hair and tickled her ear as she spoke. "How do you know what they're into? It can't be good every time."

An image flashed across Arizona's vision, paramedics and police and a needle hanging out of an arm. She swallowed and tipped her face to purse her lips over the straw in Callie's glass. "Not every time," she confirmed after swallowing a mouthful.

"What like, seventy percent? Eighty? How often is it good?"

"Callie, you don't want to be asking this."

"No, I do. I'm so intrigued. I want to know."

Arizona sighed, grateful when two more drinks were placed on the table next to them. "Thank you," she said softly, smiling. "The thing about drunk sex is that I'm in control, so to speak. They want to feel good and I can provide that and I can do what I need to do to make it good…for me…"

"Are you always high?"

"No, no actually. I'm not; drunk sometimes, stressed other times. But not always high."

"So, if you chose one of these inebriated poppets to take into the restroom, and you would just make her,"

"Callie, stop," Arizona said, interrupting Callie's line of questioning. She twisted slightly to place a hand on the edge of the table and to look at Callie. "Seriously, this is a stupid conversation. I'm not taking any woman out there into the restroom. I am completely happy, right here. What is this even about?"

"I just want to understand. What if," Callie swallowed heavily, "I could provide for some of your needs," she said, a slight involuntary smirk on her expression. "Would you or could you, become a one woman kind of woman? For me?"

"Callie."

"I mean it," Callie whispered and she edged her hand to press to the small of Arizona's back, open palm under her shirt and against the bare skin.

"I haven't… _fucked_ anyone since you and I started spending more time together. I tried, don't get me wrong. But, something stopped me."

"Really?"

"Apparently against my better judgement. I feel pressure in a relationship, Callie and I don't manage that well. My nights out, I just don't have to care and it's unreserved and quick and there's no feelings. I don't care if they hate me, but I care if I upset you or say something wrong or confusing. I care if I don't make you feel good or I put you outside of your comfort zone."

Callie nodded slowly, pressing kisses to Arizona's neck as the pads of her fingers tapped around Arizona's side. She splayed her hand and her thumb stroked over the lace edge of the bra Arizona's wore. "I'm hardly prudish," Callie said. "I can't think of too many things that I haven't liked or haven't wanted. I have a bit of a collection, small but still a collection," she added, smiling, "of toys and gels. But I have no idea what you want or like or if it's just this world that you want. It's normal, Arizona, to feel _nervous_ about relationships."

"I know," Arizona said, "I do. But…"

"But?"

Arizona sighed. "I don't know."

"Ever had _in love_ sex, Arizona?" Callie asked quietly, more daring now with her fingers trailing inside the waist band of Arizona's jeans. Arizona coughed. "Because you could be missing out on a whole amazing other world."

With Callie's tongue toying with her earlobe, Arizona turned to face Callie, forehead leaning against hers. "Maybe I should give up fucking women in club restrooms," she said, lips heavily meeting Callie's in a needing kiss.

"Callie broke away breathless a few moments later. "Why?" she asked, pushing Arizona back and standing. She gripped Arizona's hand, swallowed a few mouthfuls of her drink and led her directly to the bathroom.

Arizona tugged back at her in a weak attempt at hesitation as they entered the multiple stall room, one woman exiting as the door swung back. "Callie, we can just leave."

"Shhhh," Callie responded, pushing her into the far stall and locking the door behind her. In a whirlwind, Arizona's jeans were draped over the toilet paper and underwear shoved in Callie's bra as she was hoisted smiling on to the cistern. It wouldn't have taken Callie more than a minute to bring Arizona to a stifled orgasm, one leg over Callie's shoulder and her hands holding herself steady open palmed on the side walls. "Now we can leave," Callie murmured from between her legs, wiping at her face as she looked up at Arizona with a slight wink.

TBC


	3. Chapter 13 - Death March

**AN:** Thank you for all of the reviews, alerts and favourites. Those who remember this from years ago - you're all fantastic. And very impressive. Thanks everyone, I hope you enjoy this update. :-) Cheers, AT

 **Chapter 13: Death March**

 _The smell of yesterday_

 _Is strong_

 _As the dance through time_

 _Loses Me_

"Ah, shit!" Arizona exclaimed, catching her ankle on the metal frame of a trolley she used, pushing trays of prepared food in aluminium towards the hall entrance. It was another homeless dinner night and the number of attendees had almost doubled in just a couple of months. It took two days now to prepare and package the food and half the day to get it into the small community space kitchen and ready for the evening meal.

"You good, Arizona?" Callie asked from behind, eyes just poking out over the top of the box of utensils and serving equipment that she carried behind. "Because short of bleeding to death, you are on your own," she said, shifting the box to redistribute the weight.

"Ow," Arizona muttered, "I'm fine. You know we could have just done an extra couple of trips from the car."

"You raise a good point, and we should definitely consider that next time," Callie said, laughing. "Are you sure you haven't suffered a major injury?"

"A minor one, maybe," she answered, kicking her foot out and glancing down at her ankle. It was speckled with a thin line of blood that ran down to her heal.

"You really should sue your boss," Callie teased.

Laughing, Arizona placed the brakes on the trolley and opened the doors to the hall, pushing them back until they clicked into place, securely opened. "You have your comedian hat on today."

"What?" Callie mocked, "I'm always funny, not just today."

They continued to banter back and forth, Callie's continuous energy and sarcasm drawing laughter from Arizona. They had been spending even more time together after their conversation at the bar a couple of weeks prior; just a night or two a week spent separately at their own apartments rather than together. Even then, there were text messages exchanged until the early hours of the morning.

They had been advised that numbers for that night looked like exceeding one hundred for the first time and the biggest now, in the city. A couple of support staff now attended from a local charity, equipped with resources, referrals and basic necessities for any attendees that needed items. They also brought along their current college students, doing work placements with their service and they assisted to serve and tidy up throughout the night.

City police had also contacted Arizona during the week, offering an Officer to be present if they had someone available but Arizona had politely declined. She knew that some services had security or police present at times, but she wanted the environment to be welcoming and non judgemental. She didn't want people anxious that their bag might be searched or an outstanding warrant actioned. Mostly, she didn't want those people missing out because of some perceived safety issue. It wasn't her style.

"You actually do need something on that," Callie said, having slid her box on to the stainless steel counter and crouched down to assess Arizona's foot. She placed her open palm around Arizona's calf and moved the skin at the top of her ankle slightly. The wound weeped a small amount of blood. "Sit for a second and I'll grab the first aid box…it's somewhere…top of the fridge maybe." Arizona simply rolled her eyes and appeased Callie, tolerating her wiping the drying blood off her skin and stained sock before placing a simple plaster over the scratch.

"Happy now?" Arizona asked with a half smile.

"Well you can't walk around all night with dried blood on your foot, it's a bad look."

Arizona laughed, pulling Callie in by the hem of her shirt and kissing her. "Thank you, I appreciate your medical skills."

"Maybe I should have been a nurse," Callie said, grinning.

Arizona tossed her head back, laughing, blond hair falling from her shoulders to her back. "No no no, with your voice and musical skill, no way."

"Well I might just have to go and study nursing if I don't actually get an album written and ready for recording in, what did I say? Nine months or whatever it is that the studio has been booked for. I love that everyone knows I need a clear deadline," Callie added, chuckling.

"You'll be ready," Arizona said.

"I do like your optimism."

"I can always organise a sabbatical for you, if you like. Isolated cabin somewhere, a lake, snow, whatever takes your fancy."

"Well, having you there would be my preference so I'm not sure how productive it would be," Callie countered, leaning in for another kiss. They separated with a smile and Arizona disappeared into the kitchen and Callie, to the large room to commence setting up the large number of tables needed.

* * *

Throwing an arm out to block Arizona, as she rushed by, Callie gripped her wrist. "This is like organised chaos, has everyone at least been fed? There's only dessert left?"

Arizona blew air out of her mouth and towards her forehead, wafts of hair settling away from her face. "Apparently yes, there's seconds for dessert but everyone has had food. There's so many people."

"I can't even see the door, I think we need to start exiting people. Who's that woman giving out the bus passes and stuff? Rebecca? She's actually run out of everything, jackets, sleeping bags; she can't keep up with the requests. She said she's even out of tampons, I threw a packet to her when some girl burst into tears when she had none left. Am I so naive to think that this could never get this big? I feel like we need heaps more staff or volunteers and services."

Arizona turned and leant back against the wall, surveying the crowd and shrugging. "I think it's alright, everyone is pretty calm. Maybe we can try and get something more structured happening next time."

"This has to cost you a fortune, Arizona. I actually can't believe it's this huge."

Arizona shook her head and drew in a breath. "It's nothing, in the scheme of things. But I am exhausted," she added, chuckling.

"Dead. Dead on my feet," Callie said dramatically. They both looked up as yelling escalated in the back corner, a diverse group of men and women seemingly standing and targeting a younger, skinny guy. "Of course there would be drama after you said the word calm."

By the time the two of them rushed over, there was a disorganised fight emerging, bodies being pushed and shoved, the odd punch thrown. It was hard to decipher the argument amongst the expletives and bodies being involuntarily moved; the young guy seemingly in the midst, his head bowed and knotted overgrown hair over his face. Where Callie stilled at the periphery, Arizona powered in without hesitation, shrugging off Callie's hand that tried to grab at her shirt. She approached Tom, the familiar older man who had previously tried to warn Arizona away from troublesome suppliers. His face was a deep crimson colour and he didn't seem to notice Arizona move in front of him, the distinct odour of stale alcohol oozing from his every pore. An arm from behind pushed Arizona to the side, trying to either draw her in to the physicality of the discussion or push her aside. It was hard to know. She reacted quickly, turning and holding her ground, a woman held at arms length by Arizona's grip. "What the fuck, Tom?" she asked before pushing the girl away. "You, bail," she instructed and physically moving to intercept the next punch that was going to be thrown. She placed her body between three young men, their eyes wild and shoulders squared at the ready. "Pull the bullshit, Matty, you're not going down for something like this."

A deep voice interrupted from behind Arizona. "Away from her now," Tom stated, shaky hands on his hips. "Miss Arizona does all of this, she don't deserve any trouble."

"And _she_ needs to know," Matt insisted as he pointed at Tom with his index finger.

"I'll take care of that. But don't go around causing trouble here because that kid came with a message. He told us something good, he isn't to blame. He was just tryin' to help."

"What do I need to know Matt? Tom?" Arizona asked, the crowd around them dissipating with a few mutters of more curse language. Callie stepped in to the side of her, almost half a step behind, hands in her pockets.

Matt stood square, not willing to step on Tom's toes but making sure the information was delivered to his expectation. Arizona had given him a pair of shoes a couple of months before, stating they were in the ex-boyfriend pile but he had found crumpled tissue paper still shoved in the toes and the soles pristine. All he had said was that his feet hurt from blisters, the shoes he had gotten from the free clothing stall a size and a half too small. He owed Arizona a little something too, they all did.

"It's Nick," Tom said, stuttering slightly.

Callie tilted her head and narrowed her forehead, whilst Arizona nodded. "Yeah," she said, "he's been missing for ages. What happened to him?"

Tom cleared his throat. "Well, there's this rough load in, bad stuff and it's causing problems. The kids are dying, Nick and two from the Western suburbs."

"Well, that doesn't seem unusual, right?" Callie asked and Arizona looked over her shoulder as if surprised at Callie's presence.

"Except these kids have debt and there's been trouble. Word is, that they've been managed. I mean, one was about to talk up in Court about his sister's rapist and lock the fiddler up for good and then he's just found dead in a gutter."

"It's fucking population control," Matt added, "piss 'em off and it looks like you're more than just cut off."

"Do you know what they're pushing?"

Tom nodded to Matt, permission to respond. "Everything but tabs, I heard. Nick was a playboy, nothing special but he dabbled in meth. Who knows what they cutting with, but it ain't good. It seems targeted, not random."

"Right then gents, you should call it a night, hey?" Arizona said suddenly, her face sullen as she exhaled heavily.

"Miss Arizona, remember what I said, you don't need them. I'll sort."

"Thanks Tom, but I'm all good."

Matt turned and exited quickly then and they realised that most of the group had left during the altercation and their subsequent discussion. "Miss Arizona," he said again, tone warning.

"It's fine, Tom," Callie interrupted, giving him a small smile and a nod. Arizona emulated her expression, though it was a loose attempt.

"Thanks for filling me in," Arizona said softly and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze through his stained shirt.

"Women," he muttered as he walked away, conceding a small wave as he left.

"Better smash out this cleaning," Arizona said quickly, though she pushed a chair angrily away as her knee caught the edge of the table.

Callie was too slow to react and too unsure as to what just happened to give anything but a weak protest. "Arizona?" she called after her, but Arizona was already checking in with the volunteers, helping the support staff pack up the brochures and informational booklets they had displayed. She caught up with her in the kitchen, acutely aware of the almost aggressive movements from Arizona. The empty bottles that got thrown in the trash rather than tossed; the large plastic container that she kicked to the side with the heavy grunt rather than lifted; and the way that her whole body tensed when Callie brushed past her. "Is this it?" Callie asked softly, "everything else is trash, right?" She tapped the plastic box with her foot.

"Yup."

"Are you sure? I'll put it in the car."

"I said, yes," Arizona countered, throwing a dishcloth across the room.

Callie didn't respond, she didn't know how to really. She left the hall at the same time as the other staff, waving them off in the carpark. A few of the dinner attendees still lingered on the sidewalk, cigarettes in their mouths as they talked. They would wait around for Callie and Arizona to leave, they had done it since the meal relocated from the cafe to larger spaces. She could see Matt in the group, though he had pulled a cap down low over his face; he was a likeable young man but no doubt trouble. He spent time in and out of prison, petty crimes and assaults. He had told them recently that he was trying to stay out but it was hard, it wasn't like he had a roof over his head and a job to go to everyday. _Shit just happens_ , he had explained. Seemed he was quite wise.

The hope that Arizona had calmed dissipated when Callie returned to find her pacing around the room and meticulously tucking chairs into tables. "Should we head home?" Callie asked, throwing her satchel over her shoulder.

"Mmmm," Arizona nodded, "I'll drop you home."

Callie sighed. "You'll drop me home? Since when do you _drop_ me home?"

Arizona seemed to acknowledge at least, the inappropriateness of her statement. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not exactly good company, I'm in a bad mood."

Callie almost laughed, but refrained. Arizona's mood was more than obvious. "Lucky you have a big bed, plenty of space." She walked out before Arizona, not giving her room to argue or debate. She waited for Arizona to join her in the car a few minutes later, the hall securely locked.

Arizona wound down her window as she drove slowly out of the carpark, breaking at the exit. Matt appeared next to the car and pulled his cap off momentarily. "You good?" Arizona asked him and he nodded. "Just head and get some sleep. I don't want to hear that you've breached, okay?"

"I'll stay clean if you do," he mumbled, sliding his hat back on, pulling the brim over his eyes.

"Yeah, we'll both stay clean," Arizona conceded and she drove off then, turning right and hastily accelerating, far quicker than necessary. Callie brushed her fingers softly over Arizona's forearm before resting her open palm on Arizona's leg. "Callie," Arizona said, and it sounded almost warning like.

"I know you're pissed," Callie said, "I have no idea why, but I get that you're super pissed."

Arizona scowled at her.

"Just, tolerate me for a quick minute. Because I'm a bit lost. This is what I got from tonight's info - there's some bad shit around at the moment and there's been a few ODs and a couple of deaths. Isn't that just an average night, Arizona? I don't mean to know our stats or anything factual, but people die from drugs, particularly those who don't pay big debts. That isn't a surprise."

Arizona shakes her head at the street lights in front of her and accelerates to speed through a just turned red signal. Callie involuntarily gripped her thigh. "You don't care that that kid died?"

"Of course I care, but I'm not sure why you're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Or, well upset. I'm not telling you what to feel, whatever is fine. But I just don't understand your reaction, Arizona." She kept her tone light and her tempo even. "It wasn't a criticism."

"You have no idea."

"Clearly," Callie affirmed. "Help me understand; I've been around and it's a risk when you take drugs. Surely we both know that. No one expects it or wants to die, but it's not like we're all taking ibuprofen."

Arizona fumed, knuckles white where she gripped the steering wheel. Callie kept her open palm still on Arizona's leg, unmoving. "You have no fucking idea," Arizona scraped out.

"Except it seems like I do, Arizona. I'm the one who gets this. Do you?"

"Yeah," Arizona said, scoffing with a fake laugh as she pulled up outside of her apartment. "When I found my brother dead, with a needle sticking out of his arm. Yeah, I fucking get it."

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 14 - Good Grief

**Chapter 14: Good Grief**

 _In the heat of fear_

 _Marks can_

 _Scar_

 _Beneath the surface_

 _Of the skin_

 _Where it hurts_

 _Most_

The silence was killing Callie, figuratively of course. But she genuinely couldn't stand it. It had almost been twenty four hours since Arizona had blurted out that her brother had died and she had instantaneously shut down and refused to talk. She had shot Callie furious glances when she prompted, enquired and even gently tried discussing the weather. When she snaked an arm around Arizona's waist as they settled in bed, it had been pushed away as Arizona rolled over. Her eyes had rushed closed when Callie pressed a soft kiss to her temple and wished her goodnight.

Arizona had left the apartment before Callie in the morning too, rushing her morning shower and briefly telling Callie that she had ordering to do. Callie had lingered longer than she needed to then, taking her time to have a long shower and coffee before she headed in to the cafe. When she arrived at work, she found Arizona rushing around, doing table service and plating bakery breakfast goods, assisted only by a young barista on shift. "Good morning again," she said to Arizona, taking a step back when she rushed past her.

"Everyone is fucking sick."

"I can see that, why didn't you call me?"

Arizona gave her an unreadable passing glance and Callie thought for a moment that she was going to earn an earful of expletives. She didn't though.

"I'll take tables and the register, you call in a couple of our casuals."

"I already tried. They're either hung over or pretending to study. Useless. I better not get the fucking stomach flu that's going around."

"Okay, well it's just us smashing out the day. Got it."

"Of course, you can do the job of everyone, right Callie."

Callie drew in a deep breath, she hated misplaced anger and frustration. She liked talking; processing and talking. She wasn't the enemy and she knew that Arizona was more than aware of that. "Yup," she replied after a moment, forcing a wide upbeat grin. "Just watch and enjoy."

 **XXX**

"You ready to stop?" Callie asked Arizona, locking the front doors and sliding on to a cleaned table. She rudely placed her feet on the adjacent chair, figuring she would just have to remember to re-wipe it before they left that night. Arizona continued to move about in front of her, crouching down behind the cash register and back up again; sliding the food cabinet door open and closed; surveying the fridge behind her. "Arizona, come sit with me."

"Can you believe that we are completely out of diet soda - how hard is it to just email off the order form? I'm going to have to fire them all."

"Yeah, that's not a great idea. Maybe we just went through more today or is there some out the back? Actually, I think there's some in the storeroom."

"Of course there fucking is. Why would it be in here? Apparently I pay salaries every fortnight to lift everything around here myself."

"I can get it," Callie said, she didn't care in the least if she had to walk the fifty metres to go and restock the fridge. When she could be bothered getting up and Arizona wasn't likely to throw a knife at her as she walked past.

"Stop trying to do everything," Arizona commanded, throwing her arm out and catching a napkin holder. It flew across the counter and on to the floor. "Fuck it."

"Arizona, can you please just calm down."

"I don't want to calm down, I am so sick of having incompetent people working here."

"I don't think they're incompetent, they're sick today. People get sick." Shit happens that you can't control, is what Callie wanted to yell out, but she thought better.

"You're too nice to them, you're always nice. They need authority, you're their boss."

"Is there actually something you want to say to me? Are you angry at me?" Callie asked and it came out a little more agitated than she intended.

"You let them get away with whatever they want, you just joke and laugh. They're our staff, Callie," Arizona was precariously close to yelling and more inanimate objects were close to becoming victim to her wild gestures.

"Alright," Callie said, sliding off the table and walking behind the counter. She blocked Arizona in the corner before continuing. "This isn't about my authority over the staff, Arizona. What the fuck have I done?"

"I can't be pissed about work? It has to always be some big issue or whatever bullshit you're concocting up in your head. I'm so fucking crazy, right?"

"I'm not going to be your punching bag Arizona, but you want me to fight back? Because I will. But that's not what you want is it, actually. You just want to run out these doors and go and fuck some bitch you don't know. Am I right? You want to find some drunk blond, stumbling around a bar and stick your fingers inside of her? Am I getting close, Arizona?" Callie's pulse raced and she felt her face flush with heat. Arizona backed away in front of her, small of her back pushed against the counter and hands gripping the surface. "I said, am I getting close, Arizona?" Callie repeated.

"Well, I can't fuck you when I feel like this," Arizona hissed back.

"You want me to do it? You want me to bite you and bruise you until you forget how fucked up you feel?"

"I said no, didn't I?" Arizona said back and there was desperation in her voice. "Weren't you listening?" she suddenly added, as if being vulnerable wasn't an option. "You are not an option."

"Well I would rather be, Arizona," Callie yelled, stepping forward. "I'll fucking do it; at least I know I'll stop. Rather than some psycho who could take it too far."

"Fuck you, Callie."

Callie wasn't sure what happened next, her eyes seem to cloud over and all she could feel was energy and frustration; she was hurt and confused and standing in front of her was the woman she loved saying that she needed someone or something else. "I'll fucking do it. I'm not letting you screw some psychopath again and again. I want you to come home at night; I want you alive and home. Just stop this, stop" she screamed then, and the next thing she knew her hand was around Arizona's neck and her thumb and fingers were squeezing. "Is this what you want? Tell me, harder, softer? Fucking tell me!" She pushed at Arizona twice before freezing and dropping her hands.

Arizona's sullen eyes stared back at her, wide and staring. She dissolved into tears, head dropping and shoulders trembling. "Fuck," she said.

"Fuck," Callie replied, reaching up and dragging her hands through her dark hair. Her fingernails caught on knots but she forced them through. Cupping her mouth she stared at Arizona who was crying in front of her and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she had just given up her right to envelope her; if she had pushed too hard and tenderness was just history now. She had meant to push, she had intended to push. But that far? Callie had no idea what she was thinking. "Arizona," she whispered, standing as Arizona slunk to the floor. Arizona pulled her legs up in front of her and pressed her forehead to her knees, messy blond hair falling, hiding her face. Only her shoulders moving gave away the spilling emotion. "I'm sorry," Callie whispered, sitting on the ground in front of Arizona's legs. When she reached out to trail the pads of her fingers along Arizona's folded arms, she kept her touch feather light. She wondered briefly if Arizona could even feel them.

"Don't be sorry," Arizona said after a moment and she unfolded, keeping her head hanging and face hidden.

When Arizona's hand opened and seemed to blindly seek out the air between them, Callie gently took it between both of hers, kissing her fingers occasionally. They sat that way in silence until Arizona finally lifted her face, blotchy and tear stained.

Callie couldn't help but drag her eyes down to Arizona's neck, squinting as she tried to seek out the marks that she was convinced she had caused. She even reached a hand out to lightly graze her skin.

"It's fine, really. You didn't hurt me."

"I could have," Callie gasped out and she was filled with a choking guilt.

"Calliope," Arizona whispered. "I'm not crying because you hurt me. You didn't," she said, shaking her head.

"I really didn't mean to do it" Callie replied, and she reached forward to trail her fingertips over Arizona's neck. "There's a red mark."

Arizona shook her head again, more voraciously this time. "It's fine, I'm not bothered, it's alright."

"You should, you should be bothered that your girlfriend just put her hands around your neck and pushed you. That's something that you should be _bothered_ by."

Arizona just continued to shake her head. "No," she said softly, "I needed you to do that."

They sat on the floor in silence for a few minutes, hands on each other's legs and Callie's thoughts ran wild and tangentially. Her guilt turned to fear and back to guilt again. Then she worried and hoped and felt blushed with guilt again. She exhaled heavily and shifted her weight. "I need a cigarette, you want one?"

"Of course,"Arizona responded and Callie stiffly pushed off the floor and on to her feet, reaching for Arizona's hands and hoisting her to stand. She kept a hand on the small of Arizona's back as she weaved through to the back door and grabbed the packet of cigarettes on top of the microwave on their way through.

"Can I?" Arizona asked, shuffling closer to Callie where they sat on the step and let her body weight shift into Callie's as soon as she opened an arm. They both silently drew in a long intake of nicotine, and exhaled shaky breaths. "It wasn't that long ago," Arizona said suddenly, voice low and pace slow, "that my brother died."

Callie closed her eyes briefly before twisting Arizona's ponytail between her fingers. "Yeah?" she prompted.

"Over a year now, not quite two."

"That's not long at all."

"He could be an asshole, to most people, arrogant and rude. But not to me."

"You were close then?"

"Mostly. We shared an apartment for a while in college and then he would come and go from my place when we grew up. Used to hide out when he was in trouble or pissed some girl off; he thought he was invincible though. He just lived his life like it was his last week or something. He always said that he would never be an old man, I would just laugh at him and tell him he was full of bullshit. I never told him to change, never asked him to tone it back. Not seriously anyway. How fucked is that? I just passively accepted it as him."

Part of Callie was present, listening to every word and every detail but then she would drift out for a few seconds, surprised that Arizona was speaking open and honestly. That she was talking. "Mmmm," Callie said, without judgement, "always easier in retrospect."

"He didn't use that much when we were younger; we were both the same. Party pills and that was about it, but it changed when he hit thirty. He was with this woman that fucked him over; said he got her pregnant and had him pay for everything and set her up. Then when she gave birth, she said he wasn't his. Or a few months later I think it was. He just lost his shit; he need to be that kid's father."

"Fuck, that's really messed up. Cruel."

"He hit her, hard. And he got slapped with a restraining order and convicted of assault and lost his job and then it all just went south. He would come and go from my place but he was using more, then later dealing. To keep the supply going. He told me, you know."

"About dealing?"

"All of it, just before he died. Said he was in trouble and that he had made some enemies. I don't know what he did; something bad and I don't want to know. He gave me names, details; because he wanted to keep me safe. Wanted me to know who they were if they threatened me, they hadn't apparently but he didn't trust them. Seemed to think he was under surveillance almost, but I don't know if that was just paranoia. We had a loose plan, that I was going to send him interstate to get away but we didn't organise it and he said he didn't need it yet. That was the morning before he died; before he was killed." Arizona's voice caught and she leaned her hand over Callie's lap to press her cigarette butt into the cement.

Callie flattened her palm and ran it down Arizona's back, up and down, just to the side of spine and over the curve of her hip. "How do you know he was killed, Arizona?" she asked.

"I found messages on his phone, they didn't make sense straight away but they were clear in the end."

"What did the police do then? Wouldn't they have investigated all that shit?"

"No," Arizona said and she seemed to suddenly feel heavier against Callie. "I planted one of his other phones. The one he used to talk to me. And I took everything else. Just made it out to be an overdose. I didn't call 911 for about 45 minutes after finding him and it's not like they look hard anyway," she added in a whisper.

"Arizona," Callie said and she went to pull Arizona up to hug but earned a shake of the head in response. "I get why you were so upset about Nick now. It makes sense."

"It's them. It's the same guys."

"What?"

"I followed them here; it's them. The same people, they killed my brother."

Callie gasped. "You did what?"

"I just wanted to keep an eye on them, I think. I don't know what I wanted, but I knew I couldn't just forget them."

"So you followed them here and now you what? I mean, they're the people that come into the cafe, right? Fuck, Arizona. What if they know who you are?"

"They don't."

"You can't use okay? You can't use anything they give you. Pretend to, I don't care. But I'm not finding you like that, I'm not Arizona. This is fucked. You're in too deep."

"Stop please, I know. I haven't been, have I? I've barely touched a thing," Arizona confirmed and she lifted her body away from Callie.

Callie stared into her eyes, and she couldn't stop the swell of emotion. Tears welled and she shook her head at Arizona, who nodded back as if reading her mind.

"They don't know who I am," Arizona said again.

"I love you, okay. I love you." The words were out before Callie could think about them and they hung heavy in the dusk air.

Arizona responded with a kiss, soft and gentle at first and then more heated, desperate. She pulled away from Callie and Callie waited anxiously. She thought Arizona might run or fight, she wasn't sure. She didn't know and she hadn't planned her declaration, it had just slipped out, unfiltered. "I just want to forget about tonight and last night and my brother. I want to forget about it, everything. Except you." Arizona placed a hand in Callie's lap and her fingers edged under her shirt. She looked up at Callie. "Please," she said, hand over Callie's breast, squeezing and rubbing her thumb over the skin exposed from the edge of her bra. "Help me forget. I really want you to help me forget; just you."

Callie sighed, she felt emotional and conflicted but Arizona's fingertips could undo her at any opportunity. She wanted to ask Arizona if she was okay, but she knew she wasn't. She wanted to ask if she would just cry in her arms, but she knew she had gotten more from Arizona that day than anyone probably ever had. She wanted to say yes, as long as it was always her. She wanted to ask Arizona if she loved her too, but she knew it was too soon, too complex.

Callie had almost waited to long to answer and when she glanced back, Arizona's eyes were filling with tears again. Callie caught her hand before Arizona could remove it from under her shirt. "I'll help you forget Arizona, anytime. But I'm also here, for when you want to remember. When you want to make sense of all the things that don't make sense. I'm here, okay. Tell me that you hear that first."

"I hear it," Arizona said, and she even nodded slightly.

"Then come inside so I can make sure I'm the only person on your mind." Arizona's lips were back on hers before they moved though, and her hand back exploring the swell of Callie's breast. They did get inside; eventually. All else forgotten for the moment, at least.

 **TBC….**


	5. Chapter 15 After The Storm

**Part 14: After The Storm**

 _There lies a dream_

 _A little fantasy_

 _Of a better place_

 _A better life_

 _But there are hurdles_

 _Of hurt_

 _And loss_

 _To wear love_

 _In a smile_

"What _are_ you doing?" Arizona asked, seeing Callie standing at the coffee machine when she knew there were far more important places she had to be.

"I was just making myself another coffee and thought I would fill the two espresso orders while I was at it."

"Ummm. Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No," Callie said simply, expressionless.

"Callie."

"I cancelled it; I don't want to talk about it."

"You cancelled it?" Arizona exclaimed, before lowering her voice. "What do you mean you cancelled it?"

Callie rolled her eyes. "Ummm…don't want to talk about it…"

"Oh yeah, I ignored that," Arizona said, she was more than happy to be focusing on Callie; she was still exhausted with her own largely unprocessed emotions. It was nice to be distracted. "You were meant to be doing some recordings, just of a song or two, weren't you?"

"Yup. But I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a complex human; now, can we just get back to work."

"What work? There's hardly anyone here."

Callie laughed. "There's a rush, just around the corner. I can tell."

"Honey, you're amazingly talented. You need to be in that studio, even if it's just something really rough. You have so much material."

Sighing, Callie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Arizona's cheek and squeezed her forearm. "Thank you, but you're biased. It's done now anyway, I won't get another slot for a few weeks."

"For you just to cancel again?" Arizona called out after Callie, but she just disappeared into the back of the café. She was staring at the vacant doorway when a clearing throat pulled her back to the present and she swung around to the front counter. "Tom!" she exclaimed, surprised.

"Ms Arizona," he said gruffly.

"Ummm, what are you doing here? Can I make you a coffee? On the house of course."

He nodded and followed Arizona to stand next to her at the coffee machine. "You been staying away from trouble, Ms?"

"Mmmm," Arizona said, raising her eyebrows. "Why's that?"

"It's getting pretty bad out there, it's not going to be pretty when it goes wrong."

"I'm not so clear here, Tom. What's getting bad? The fallout from the young guys?"

Tom cleared his throat again, although it was more of a deep, chesty cough. Arizona wondered if he had ever had it checked out by a doctor. "The kids are feeling hard done by, they're arming themselves and wanting to fight. They don't want to just be killed off when they can't make sales or they're piled up the dollars. You should distance yourself, I heard your name get thrown around last night."

Arizona's eyes shot up and her mouth opened. "What do you mean, my name?"

"They think you've paid off some debts, slipped through cash settlements and made some extra orders to buy 'em time."

"They don't know anything, they're just stupid fools. Anything else?"

Tom shook his head. "They're not sure who you are, neither am I of course. And I don't think they're after you but they're fucking confused Ms Arizona, you've helped 'em all. The kids and the…others. They think you're a mystery and they don't know if you're dangerous or not."

"I'm not dangerous, Tom. I'm a nobody with no business."

He eyed her suspiciously. "You've helped me out, I help you out. Careful of the crazy, they don't ask questions if they have a theory. So, clean clean clean for a while."

"Got it. Callie and I will be right."

"If I hear anything else…"

"Thanks Tom. I appreciate it. You're a good man."

He shrugged and disappeared with his coffee to go. Arizona just watched him walk out the door silently. It wasn't really part of her plan, to be their suspicion. She wanted to be just a nice chick who made some orders occasionally, let the café be used for their business meetings; nothing more than that. If they linked her with Tim, she was fucked probably. And if she saved any more asses she was fucked again.

 **XXX**

From her ensuite bathroom, Arizona could hear Callie strumming at her guitar, soft rhythmic melodies that drifted through the open door. Arizona leaned back against the sink, towel drying her hair and running a brush through as she listened. She waited as long as she could, knowing Callie would immediately slide her guitar off the side of the bed and against the far wall as soon as she got into bed.

"Keep playing," Arizona said, as soon as she appeared, damp hair over her shoulders.

Callie stilled and rolled her eyes. "I was just mucking around."

"I know, I like it."

As predicted, Callie rolled to her side and leant the acoustic guitar up against the wall. She snuggled down under the covers, re-positioning her tank top. "How was your shower?"

Arizona smiled. "Shower like. Tell me, did you book in another recording session today?" Callie screwed up her nose and shook her head. "Want to run me through the panic?"

"It's not panic, not really. I'm just having a minor crisis; I'm not sure I want to go down the whole touring path again. It's exhausting and would take me away from you and the café."

Arizona laid next to Callie and rolled on to her side; she pressed a kiss to the curve of Callie's shoulder. "I'm completely supportive, if that's what you want to do. I mean, if it's the dream Callie, you should run with it. We can make it work."

"I know. But I'm actually really happy here and we're on a good track, minus a few hurdles. It's not really a time that I want to be away heaps and I love what we can do with your café and helping people out."

"Ours. I know you're not named on the paperwork and everything, but it feels like it's ours. Even when I'm all crazy and pushing you away, I like that it's something we share."

"Me too," Callie said, snuggling into Arizona's chest. "I'll keep doing some nights playing at the bar and anything else that comes up around town, but I think I'll pass on the recording side of things. For now. Maybe things will change later on but for the moment, I think this is where I'm meant to be."

"And playing for me? I adore listening to your music; it's so calming."

"I can do that too," Callie said.

"Well, I'm happy with that but I would hate for you to give up on something really important."

Callie shook her head against Arizona's sternum. "Giving up on something important would be disappearing from you, at the moment."

Arizona exhaled a sigh of relief, embarrassed briefly that Callie would have been able to feel it. "Those words just roll off your tongue so easily."

"It's easy with you…except when you're a crazy bitch," Callie said and she was laughing before the words were even out of her mouth.

"Ha ha, very funny. But very true. Hey who knows, maybe we'll sell up the café and set up our own music venue somewhere random."

"Awww, I like what we've got going on here. The café is great."

"Which, kind of on that note. You haven't been using anything _crazy_ lately have you?"

"As in. your supplies? No, not at all; are you missing some? I've really only had a few joints over the last couple of weeks, nothing for me. I thought you had been staying pretty clean?"

"Yeah, I have. And I didn't mean my stuff. I just heard today from Tom, that there's a bit of conflict amongst the business men and the plebs. He thought it best we stay out of the road, so if you want anything, maybe we could touch base with Tom rather than our usual contacts."

"Why would we be involved in it all? I don't think my little personal use order if going to cause anyone anything to worry about."

Arizona cast her eyes to the ceiling; she wasn't sure how much to say or not say. She had brought all of this to Callie's world, not the other way around and she felt an innate need to protect her. And she would protect her, at all cost. "I'm not sure, but you know Tom, he likes to think himself a father figure to us I think."

"There haven't been any more deaths have there?"

Arizona shook her head. "I don't think so, not that I've heard. It's bullshit though, these are just dumb fucked up kids that have made stupid choices and been handed a crap hand. They don't deserve to die. These arseholes running the show do; they're such power hungry fuckwits who didn't do anything better with their lives."

"Yeah, I'm not sure how it goes. What happens when all their young dealers get scared? I would think that they then get all jumpy and scatty and end up doing something more stupid."

"That's pretty much what Tom said, except they're accessing weapons."

"Shit. Should we be cancelling the next dinner?"

"Not yet, let's just wait and see what happens."

Callie relaxed her tensed body and repositioned herself to lie against Arizona's body, her head tucked into the crook of her shoulder. She kissed Arizona's jaw. "I'm sorry about what they did to your brother. I can't imagine. I get that you wanted to keep an eye on them."

"Yeah," Arizona murmured, "I never even thought about what I was doing or what I was going to do. I mean, they come into the café and I know people who know people. But for what purpose?"

"More than just keeping an eye on them?"

"I think originally I thought I would come here and just fucking kill them. Not that that was a well rehearsed plan, I don't even own a fucking weapon. What was I going to do, caffeinate them to death? But I don't know, I'm so angry at them. I'm so devastated that this is just continuing; they just wipe people off the planet. People who might have someone, anyone, who loves them. That's not okay."

"No, it's not okay. And if I made it out at all, at any time, to be okay or acceptable, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't. I just get particularly sensitive."

"Understandably."

"Is it bad that I do wish for them to die? Does that make me just as bad as them? Who wishes someone dead?"

"Oh Arizona, no. Someone who's brother was killed, that's who. I think that everything you feel is completely normal and valid."

Silence settled between them for a few minutes, just the slight sound of their breathing and the distant noise perforating the ceiling from scraping chairs. Arizona spoke first, voice soft and pace slow. "I'm so glad that you're here, with me. I'm so so grateful that you came into my life and that you stayed and saw through all of my…stuff…" She stopped and drew in a shaky breath. "Thank you, Calliope. I would be such a mess; more of a mess; without you."

Callie lifted herself up on her elbow and smiled; she kissed Arizona slowly. "My life is better, albeit a little more crazy, with you in it. And you wouldn't believe how happy I am that you chose me."

"And only you."

Callie laughed. "That too. I'm not that keen on sharing you, just in case you're re-considering."

"I'm not."

"Good."

Arizona yawned then and her eyes watered at the effort. "I'm so tired, are you ready for me to turn the lamp off?"

"Oh yes," Callie confirmed as Arizona rolled on to her side and reached an arm out to hold the lamp switch. She waited for Callie to snuggle in to her back, draping an arm over her side. Arizona turned the light off and brought her arm back into her chest where Callie intertwined their fingers. "Try and sleep well, okay? Turn your mind off," she whispered into Arizona's ear.

"Completely blank."

"You're funny," Callie said before kissing Arizona's shoulder. "I love you." Arizona squeezed her eyes shut at the declaration, not the first time Callie had said those three unfiltered, emotion filled words. And still, she wasn't able to reciprocate them. The words anyway, the feelings were there. "Good night Arizona."

She didn't respond with words, just squeezed Callie's fingers tight in her hand and tugged it closer to her chest.

 **TBC…**


	6. Chapter 16 Our Time Now

**Warning: This part contains a consensual sex scene**

 **Chapter 15: Our Time Now**

 _Life needs change_

 _At times_

 _To ebb the flow_

 _Of the tides_

 _Yet the moon_

 _Will pull_

 _It's magic_

 _Or doom when rushed_

 _By the storm_

Callie walked slowly behind the servery and repositioning tongs as she went. "We have some leftovers tonight," she said, stilling next to Arizona.

"Yeah, numbers are really down. What do you think, maybe only 70 here? 75?"

"Something like that. It's been pouring rain though, maybe people just weren't on the move tonight."

"Guess so."

"Don't look so disappointed, you're killing me," Callie said, groaning.

"Well, even Tom wasn't here, Callie. You have to admit that's odd."

Callie shrugged, she preferred not to analyse things too closely. These people were itinerant; they changed circumstances constantly and who knows where he was. He could be in hospital for all they knew. "I wouldn't overthink it."

"Have you met me?" Arizona said quickly, laughing. "There's stuff happening out there and we have no idea."

"Well, it's not our world hun."

Arizona sighed. "I don't know, I have a bad feeling."

"I think that was just the sushi we ate for lunch," Callie said and she grinned widely.

"You are very good at that."

"Good at what?"

"Oh don't be all innocent, I know your tricks at distracting me."

"Uh huh and I have a few more up my sleeve for when we get home," she teased.

Arizona simply rolled her eyes and chuckled, she was still shaking her head as she walked away.

 **XXX**

Arizona sat on her kitchen bench, staring absent mindedly at her hands. She fingered a small piled of similarly sized aluminium packets, the delicious fine white powder enclosed that she had become so accustomed to over the years. It had been almost a month since she had promised Callie that she wouldn't use her supplies and she hadn't touched it. Upped her intake of prescription pills maybe, but she hadn't touched anything else. She had kept her regular orders going, changing them ever so slightly so as not to raise suspicion, just as she always had. But now she had this small stash and she was certainly in the mood. Her stomach churned with anxiety.

"I thought you were getting rid of those," Callie said loudly, interrupting her chaotic thoughts. She physically jumped at the intrusion and placed an open palm to her chest.

"Jesus, you could kill someone with that tone."

"Well come on, what are you doing? We talked about this."

Arizona focussed on her hands again, running her index finger back and forth along one of the packet edges. "Do you want to move away with me? Somewhere far from here? Like, New York or Chicago. Maybe San Francisco, I've always loved that city."

"Ummmm…."

"Just to start somewhere new, clean."

"Well, of course. It wouldn't bother me but are you serious?"

"I think so. I think it's unsafe now, and I don't want you to be unsafe. I don't want to be. This isn't the life I had planned and it's not the life that Tim would want for me. At all."

"The café?"

"Oh it's making great money so I could easily sell it. There's still over a year on the shop lease but all the books are in order and look great. There's plenty of potential."

"You've given this a lot of thought," Callie said, placing her hands on Arizona's thighs and standing between her legs.

With the high benchtop, Arizona looked down to Callie, huge deep brown eyes staring up at her. "Some. Do you think I'm being crazy? This is your life too, I don't want to go if it's not with you."

"Let me just check all those attachment and strings I have….oh yeah, that's a zero. Where you go, I go. Simple."

Arizona smiled, but she felt conflicted; sad. "We could go anywhere, and do anything. I have the resources and with the money we'll get selling the café. The options are pretty good."

"It's your money Arizona, not mine. You have to make your own decisions with that; but I can work anywhere. I don't mind what I do."

Arizona rolled her eyes. "We're a good team; you made the café successful just as much as me. I want you to share my life and that's everything I have. You make me so happy, Calliope. I thought I needed more but I don't. I just need you."

"Wow," Callie said and she dug her fingers into Arizona's ribs in a playful tickle. "What happened to crazy Arizona? She's like all but disappeared."

 _She fell in love_ , was what Arizona wanted to say but the same old slightly crazy Arizona did actually still exist. "Yeah well, the old Arizona has been won over. She's seen the other side and she likes it just fine."

"Don't be too sane, I won't cope."

Arizona laughed, tipping her head back. "No risk of that." She bent forward at the waist and kissed Callie; a long, gentle kiss.

"So what are you doing with those?" she asked as they broke apart. Her tone was soft and gentle, but Arizona knew Callie's position.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"They have a date with the toilet bowl."

Arizona gave a half smile. "Seems a waste. I could really go a cold glass of champagne and a short line."

"Arizona," Callie said, and she was warning; condescending almost.

"You would be that bothered?"

Callie sighed and she looked away from Arizona, eyes seeming to scan the ceiling, corner to corner. "I just don't want to stand and your damn casket lowered into the ground. I don't think that's too unreasonable."

"Well, firstly, I want to be cremated. So the whole burial thing is unrealistic." Arizona softened when Callie gave her an exasperated look. "They've all died from IV stuff, Callie."

"Please don't. That's all I've got okay, just please. Don't."

Tears brimmed Callie's eyes when Arizona stared at her, they made her irises look spattered with reflected light. "Okay," Arizona said, cupping her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Callie nodded and raised herself up on her tiptoes to pull Arizona into a hug. Her arms were tight around Arizona's back and she pressed her face into her neck.

"I'll get rid of them, I'm sorry Callie. Please don't cry." Falling back down to the flats of her feet, Callie kept her face pressed into Arizona's stomach, forehead just reaching her sternum. Void of additional words, Arizona's ran her fingers through Callie's hair, finding the base of her skull and kneading her fingers into the muscles that ran the length of her neck and into her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispered again after a few minutes. She was so damn sorry.

 **XXX**

It was later that afternoon, not long after they had closed the café for day and all the staff had left that Callie realised she hadn't laid eyes on Arizona for at least ten or fifteen minutes. A miracle given the size of the small shop. Double checking the front door locks and lowering the blinds, Callie switched off the mains switch to the coffee machine as she stepped through to the back. A glance at the storeroom fridge saw two packets of cigarettes still in place and the bottle of red that Callie had brought with them from Arizona's home that morning. "Arizona, where are you?" she asked, checking further into the storeroom; finding only cases of soda and the new order of disposable coffee cups. "Are you sleeping?" she muttered, pushing the door open to the office. "Ohhhhh," she said, eyes wide and pulse quickly racing, "definitely not sleeping."

"Nope," Arizona said from where she was sprawled out on the single bed, one arm folded behind her head and the other clearly pleasuring her breast under a thin v neck tee shirt. "You took your time by the way. After teasing me all day."

"Teasing?" Callie asked, and she wasn't so sure she had deliberately been seducing Arizona. Certainly not consciously but she was suddenly thrilled she had been perceived that way if this was the outcome. They had lost some spontaneity of late, falling in to the habitual nature of evening, under the covers, sex, a couple of times a week. Relationship intimacy. They were too passionate for that. "I don't know what you're talking about, Arizona," Callie insisted again, sitting on the desk chair to untie her laces and remove her shoes and socks.

Arizona simply smiled at her, fingers working as Callie darted her eyes from Arizona's face to her chest, and on to her stomach where her palm drifted over before returning to her breast. "Take your time now actually," she said.

"What? You're going to take care of yourself without me?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Arizona said, licking her lips.

"Wouldn't be the first time for me either," Callie said quickly, kicking one shoe under the desk as she fumbled with the knot on her second. "But that doesn't mean it's my preference, far from my preference actually."

"Mmmm, well, I'll take that into consideration but I'm not making any guarantees."

"You are a control freak, you know that."

"Yes, yes I do," Arizona said and she pulled the arm from behind her head and used that hand to trace up the inside of her thigh. The knee length skirt she wore rode up and exposed black underwear. "And you are just such fun when you're flustered."

Callie rolled her eyes as she finally released the laces and loosened her shoe. "Well at least you know you're having the desired effect on me. I assume that was all part of your evil plan?"

"You assume correctly, Calliope." Arizona moaned; genuinely or just for impact, Callie wasn't sure but she would melt for that sound. "Now your boots are finally off, perhaps you could remove some of your clothes. Those jeans are covering way too much."

"You are on fire this afternoon, I don't know what put you in the mood but I like it."

"Yup, definitely jeans off," Arizona responded, clearly rubbing herself between the legs as Callie pushed her jeans off of her feet.

"How about," Callie said, pausing to take a few steps towards Arizona, "that I take this top off you." She was pulling the shirt over Arizona's shoulders before she even had an opportunity to protest. "Yup, definitely better." Leaning forward, she hooked an index finger over the cup of Arizona's bra and held it to the side. She sucked on her nipple until she earnt the desired groaned response before gently releasing it and stepping back. She tossed Arizona's shirt on to the desk.

"That was a little bit mean," Arizona said, again, licking her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment, mouth slightly ajar as she clearly indulged a sensitive spot. When she opened them, Callie was waiting, shirtless.

"Mean? I thought you were in control here," Callie said, climbing on to the bed and straddling the lower part of Arizona's leg, tracing light circles over her thigh.

"I think we both know that I no longer hold all the control," Arizona said and it seemed true to Callie in so many ways. Arizona had certainly lost her edge; the emotional rollercoaster that would see her internalise and panic. The coping style that saw her lose herself in anything that didn't matter; just to avoid all that did.

"So, anything I can do to assist here? You know how I love to help." Callie rocked slowly against Arizona's knee and held an open palm out in front of her. "Such as this for a start," she whispered, using two hands to unclasp Arizona's bra, secured at the front. "Helpful, see." Arizona's eyes involuntarily closed as Callie palmed both breasts.

"Totally," Arizona murmured.

She waited a minute, until regular incomprehensible murmurs escaped Arizona's lips before withdrawing her hands. "Just wait," Callie said, predicting the complaints. She pulled Arizona's underwear down her legs before awkwardly removing her own. Callie settled back to her spot, knowing the second she tilted her pelvis forward than her own arousal would spread over Arizona's knee.

"Maybe you could do that here," Arizona said, tapping her hips.

"Nah, I think I'm good for the moment," Callie insisted, laughing lightly when Arizona scowled at her.

"Fine," she replied and her fingers quickly disappeared in to her own folds, where they both knew she could end this game in a matter of moments if she wanted to.

Callie rolled her hips as if she had no say in the way her body moved; the pressure against her centre rhythmic. She balanced with one hand against the bed and the other, shadowed Arizona's fingers until she found her opening, deliciously ready for her. "No, keep doing your thing," she instructed Arizona, fluid pooling at the base of her two fingers as they entered her.

"Fuck," Arizona said, drawing the word out in a low monotone voice. "This is what I had in mind," she added after a moment, responding to the careful way that Callie hooked her fingers and moved them inside of her.

Callie watched her breathlessly, fingers buried inside of her and Arizona's hurried movements against her own nipples and between her legs. Callie was almost blissfully unaware of her own gathering arousal and momentum as she watched Arizona edge closer, predicting her release and then watching Arizona still her fingers and prolong the inevitable. Callie groaned loudly; unfiltered and Arizona gushed into her hand.

"Yes," Arizona said in between moans and her hand left her own breast to grip Callie's. Rough and hastily squeezing and rubbing. "Let me inside of you," she muttered but Callie shook her head.

"No." She was already there, a rough as the leg fucking was; she was ready.

Arizona tilted her head to the ceiling and her back arched, shoulders pressing back and leg harder against Callie. "I'll come," she said and Callie could hear that statement any time.

It was Callie who tumbled over first, a shudder of Arizona's leg enough to break her controlled pressure and she was swearing and moaning without any thought or processed articulation. Arizona followed and Callie only felt the rhythmic gripping around her fingers and rush of fluid as Arizona's climactic sounds mixed with her own.

They were breathless and sweaty as they collapsed on the bed, Callie lying sprawled over Arizona's side, heavy against her body.

Callie swallowed heavily before a muffled, distant voice emanated from her. "I like San Fran."

She felt fingers tug at her hair. "Me too."

 **TBC…**


End file.
